Espionage
by CaitlynMacKenzie
Summary: It's been almost two years since Veronica's last investigation and they are doing "normal" Logan & Veronica-style. He has his honorable discharge and she's ready to return to field work, but she doesn't want to take this case until something happens that changes her mind. This is part three of my Veronica Mars series. It follows the events of "Come Back to Me" and "A Closed Set."
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

"Duncan?" Almost thirteen years and he still looked the same. There was a wariness in his blue eyes that was new and they were framed by some new lines. His hair was lighter, closer to blond, as were the mustache and closely-trimmed beard, but overall, the same.

"Veronica." He pulled her into a tight hug before she could stop him. She remained stiff in his arms not returning the embrace. This was a homecoming she was never planning on having and she didn't quite know what to say to him or how to react.

The sound of little feet running across the floor was followed by peals of laughter and a squealed, "Daddeeee." Whenever she was overly excited or _happy_, Wyatt stretched out the word to add the extra vowel sounds.

"Let's see who Mommy's talking to Jellybean." His sentence grew louder as he got closer to the door and then he was behind her. "You can let go of my wife now."

Duncan released her immediately. "Sorry, I….Logan?" He made a move to hug him too, but stopped when he saw Logan's stony expression.

They faced off and the air around them grew tense. Logan moved out from behind her and took a step toward the door effectively putting his body between her and Duncan. This had the potential to get very bad, very fast. She knew this reaction from Logan wasn't jealousy and it wasn't about Aaron, it was because of her. _If Wyatt wasn't here_...

She looked at their daughter; there was a slight frown on Wyatt's face. Aware of the change in Daddy's mood, she'd grown pensive and quiet. Pressing her tiny palms against Logan's cheeks, she turned his face toward hers to reclaim his attention and said, "Pool Daddy?"

Her normal exuberance was subdued and, realizing it was because of him, Logan forced himself to relax. He smiled. "Just as demanding as your mama" —he planted a soft kiss on her nose— "Okay let's go swimming." Wyatt clapped her approval.

"You are so wrapped Echolls," Veronica admonished with a smile.

"Yep." —he snagged Wyatt's pinkie and wiggled it— "Around this one, right here." His gaze moved to her, unsure and questioning. Veronica put a reassuring hand on his arm and he gave an almost imperceptible nod before looking at Duncan. "You should probably come in."

To say Duncan looked shocked would be utilizing her gift for understatement. Veronica wasn't sure if it was the _married with child_ or if it was the addition of _Logan_ to the equation that had him so stunned. She pulled the door a little wider. "We can talk by the pool." There was no way Logan would take Wyatt swimming and leave them alone in the house. It took a second for Duncan to cross the threshold. "Do you want something to drink? Lemonade?"

"Sure, okay," Duncan mumbled while his eyes roamed over the living room and settled at a point on the far wall. Veronica followed his gaze to their wedding photos; Logan in his service dress blues, her in a simple gown and Wyatt in pink. _Not just your imagination running away with you_.

Logan frowned. "I'll get the lemonade. You go sit." She waited until his back was turned before rolling her eyes. If it was up to him, the heaviest thing she'd be allowed to lift would be her own body and only to go to the bathroom. _Five more months Veronica, five more months_. He put Wyatt down. "Go outside with Mommy and I'll be out in a little bit."

Once he was in the kitchen, she turned to Duncan. This was beyond strange. There was so much history between them; first boyfriend to potential brother and back to boyfriend, yet she didn't know anything about him now and she didn't know what to say. Veronica settled for, "How's Lilly?"

"Laurel. We had to" —he started to say _run_ and changed course— "Move when she was four and it meant changing her name. She doesn't want…she's been Laurel a long time."

"Thirteen this year, right?" He nodded. Lilly…_Laurel_ was twelve now; the same age Veronica was when she met Logan. "That makes me feel really old."  
"Imagine how I feel."

Wyatt was waiting impatiently at the French doors leading to the yard. House rule was no backyard without Mommy or Daddy. "Me go 'wimming Mama."

"We're coming sweet pea." She pushed open the door and Wyatt raced onto the deck. There were only two speeds for her; incredibly fast or unbelievably slow. Of course the slow setting was only for things she didn't want to do like go to bed. "Wyatt will be two in April."

"She talks really well."

Veronica grinned. "She inherited Logan's gift for gab. First _sentence_ at fifteen months and" —she flapped her fingers and thumb together in the _blah-blah_ hand gesture— "She even talks in her sleep." Wyatt was standing at the edge of the deck, staring at the pool and bouncing on her feet. "Logan's teaching her to swim."

They moved from the deck toward the chairs by the pool. "So…you and Logan. I'm guessing you got back together after I left?" Putting their dating history into an explanation would require charts and graphs.

Wyatt was getting even more impatient; she ran back in the house to check on Logan's progress. Waiting was not her strong suit; _wonder where she gets that from_. Veronica watched her until she was safely inside and heard Logan call _got her_. Turning back to Duncan, she picked up the thread of their conversation. "We started dating after graduation and then through our first year of college. After that, we, um, split up and reconnected at the reunion." _Wow when you put it that way Veronica it sounds like the plot of a romantic comedy_. "I heard you cut a deal."

"Not really a deal per se; custodial interference instead of kidnapping and the statute…" He shook his head as if it was all beyond him. Veronica understood his confusion. Custodial interference was extremely complicated based on jurisdictions. In some states it wasn't even considered a crime.

"It must feel good to be home."

Before he could answer, Wyatt raced back to them with Logan following at a slower pace. He held a tray with a pitcher of lemonade, plastic tumblers and a _huge_ BLT. "Your mid-morning snack."

"Ha-ha." She bit her lip; trying to resist the sandwich, but it was calling to her and she was a little _peckish_. Veronica relented, took a bite and groaned the minute it hit her tongue; bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado with garlic mayo on a toasted sourdough boule. She shoved the sandwich back in her mouth for another bite and spoke around it. "This is amazing."

Logan smirked. "That's what I thought." He turned to Duncan. "Pregnant Veronica is a veritable eating machine." She frowned at him and he gave her his most innocent smile, which she was _not_ buying no matter how hard he tried to sell it. His pronouncement made her rethink his earlier reaction; maybe it was slightly about jealousy. _Why don't you just stick a flag in my navel and claim me as yours?_ As if he could read her thoughts, Logan gave her another grin; this one a little less innocent. "I better get in the pool before princess jellybean has me sentenced to the stockades."

He tugged off his shirt and scooped up Wyatt. Pool time was their thing. Sometimes she'd swim with them, but mostly she liked to sit and watch them play together. He'd been taking Wyatt 'swimming' since she was six months old; first to get her comfortable in and around the water and then to teach her to float. She was now able to swim from him to the side of the pool. It was really more leap from Daddy's arms, doggie paddle, grab the edge and pull herself to the side, but Logan thought she was ready for the Olympics. Veronica grinned.

"Pregnant?"

To delay answering, she took another bite of her sandwich. This pregnancy was different than her first. Morning sickness was a misnomer; she'd been sick almost all day, every day, since around week five and her appetite was just now returning to…_veritable eating machine_. "I'm due in August."

Wyatt was sitting on the steps and Logan was swimming underwater toward her. As he grew closer she started to shriek with laughter because she knew what was coming in their little game of _shark_; Daddy would eat her toes, pop out of the water and she would splash him, which would make him swim away only to do it again.

Veronica wanted to be in the pool with them instead of talking to Duncan. It was unseasonably warm and she was _hot_. She stripped off her coverall, waited for Logan to pop out of the water and tossed it on his head. Pulling it off, his head whipped around and a slow smile crossed his face as his eyes skimmed over her body. _Definitely a hot day_.

He sat on the steps next to Wyatt, bent his head and whispered something in her ear. Her tiny head bobbed up and down and she grinned. _Uh-oh_. The now soaking wet coverall flew through the air and landed across her legs with a splat. Veronica stuck her tongue out at them, which made Wyatt erupt in a fit of giggles.

Duncan was watching the entire exchange with an expression that was both astonished and a little sad. When he caught her staring at him, he smiled. "I just never figured _you_…and with Logan."

The implication of his comment made her angry. Veronica frowned. "You don't know anything about me. I'm not eighteen anymore."

"I didn't mean to imply…I'm sure you're a…" his voice trailed off. She didn't know if he stopped talking because he was afraid to make it worse or if he didn't believe what he was about to say. Either way it only served to make her angrier. Realizing he stuck his foot in his mouth, he gave her a sheepish grin. "Can we start over? I'm…it's just really good to see you."

Veronica was surprised to find the feeling wasn't mutual. She wondered if it would be different had he returned to her life when she was in New York before Logan. It was possible, but she didn't think so. She'd worked through her feelings about him and for him a long time ago, relegating him to the past where he belonged. Having him here in her home, interrupting her new life, made her irritable. _Maybe that's just pregnancy hormones_. "Where are you and Lil…Laurel staying?"

"At the Grand for now; I'm going to start looking for a house as soon as possible. I want to get her settled; moving here has been…an _adjustment_ for her."

"Did you have to move a lot?"

His response was a humorless laugh. "Define a lot." He shook his head. "We went to Australia right after Mexico, but one of my dad's business rivals saw us when he was there on vacation."

"Is that when you changed her name?"

Duncan nodded. "After that we moved to places with no extradition treaty with the U.S.; an island in Croatia and then for the past few years, Hong Kong."

Wyatt was chewing Logan's ear off with tales of Grandpa's new dog, Partner, and asking why they didn't have a dog, but Veronica knew he was listening to both conversations just like she was. _It's probably good he's distracted or princess jellybean would have a puppy by tomorrow. _"What made you decide to come home now?"

"When my dad…" _Tried to kill me and was shot by Clarence Wiedman_. "I needed to come home to run the company." Briefly she wondered what her abnormal psych professor would have to say about the fathers of _both_ her high school boyfriends trying to kill her. "The Mannings didn't protest, they…they just really wanted to see their granddaughter."

"And have they? Seen her?" _My curiosity is almost as insatiable as my appetite_. She finished her sandwich and put the plate back on the tray. _Still hungry_. Veronica frowned at the empty plate and Logan laughed. Shooting him a nasty look, she turned her body away from the pool. She felt him behind her seconds before his arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders. "You're getting me wet." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized her mistake.

"We have company _dear_, but I'll be more than happy to take care of that later." Her face flushed and Duncan gave an uncomfortable chuckle. "Do you want another sandwich?"

She tilted her head back to see him. "Cookies?"

"Cookie!" Wyatt squealed with delight and started for the house.

"You really need to watch what you say Veronica." He removed his arms and draped his dry towel around her. "Wyatt wait for me." She paused on the steps to the deck. Logan crossed the lawn, wrapped Wyatt in her Tinkerbelle towel and hoisted her onto his shoulders. As they approached the door, he told her to duck and instead she leaned over him, squeezed his face between her palms and kissed his forehead. Wyatt was a big fan of forehead and nose kisses; _just like Daddy_.

"It's like he's Logan, but at the same time…not Logan." She knew exactly what he meant. The wit and charm were still there…_and the inappropriate comments, don't forget those Veronica_, but he was also _softer_. "How is he with…" Her eyes narrowed in an unspoken warning:_ watch what you say about him _and Duncan abruptly stopped talking. Instead of finishing his original question, he asked, "Does he like being a dad?"

She smiled. "He loves it." They were inseparable since Logan got his discharge four months ago. He seemed perfectly happy playing house husband for now, but she couldn't silence the small voice in her head that was afraid he would regret his decision to leave the Navy. "What about you; looking forward to being the dad of a teenager?"

He shook his head. "Not if she's anything like…" _Lilly_. The name blossomed in the air and a long moment of silence passed between them. "I saw the movie."

Trina used the insurance proceeds to pay off some of her debt and Logan took care of the rest. After making him a silent partner in Echo Films, they took the original script back to the studio. Justin Smith was hired to do some rewrites; they got an actual director to helm the film and Charlene Lawrence rejoined the project. It was both a commercial and critical success. Charlene won her best actress Oscar and Echo Films was flush. There was no more acting or directing for Trina, but she was enjoying her new roles as producer and Aunt Rina. "What did you think?"

"It was good; Lilly would've loved it."

Veronica nodded. That's what made them decide to go ahead with it; a tribute to Lilly, but there was no alternate ending and a few names were changed, specifically hers. Logan chose then to return with a plate of cookies. "Where's Wyatt?"

"I left her with the cookie jar and told her to have at it so she's probably passed out on the kitchen floor in sugar shock." His tone was serious enough to cause Duncan to frown his disapproval.

"Good plan; now I won't have to worry about feeding her for the rest of the day."

Logan nodded. "Totally solved the nap problem too."

"Just another thing I love about you Echolls, your efficiency." They grinned at each other and Duncan finally clued in to the fact that they were joking.

He held up his cell phone; a view of Wyatt lying on the couch watching television filled the screen. They didn't let her watch regular television ever, but they'd just introduced her to Disney movies and she adored them. "The Little Mermaid; I almost slipped and put on Dumbo."

Veronica groaned. _That would've been a nightmare; literally_. The first time she saw the scene of Mrs. Jumbo in her cage singing Baby of Mine to Dumbo, Wyatt's eyes rounded in horror, her bottom lip quivered and she started to bawl. She was inconsolable and plastered to Veronica for the rest of the night. "We should throw that out."

"Already done." He joined them at the table, propped his phone against the umbrella pole so he could keep an eye on Wyatt and turned to Duncan. "So why are you here?"

She didn't know if he meant here as in Neptune or here as in their house and neither did Duncan. "I thought about staying away, but my mom really pushed for me to come home; she was the one who worked things out with the Mannings. I think she's lonely."

Logan smirked. "Hmm, I don't remember Cruella being lonely; are you sure she just didn't need help making her coat?"

The three of them shared a smile at the time-honored tradition of Celeste-bashing and for a minute they were teenagers again. Veronica's gaze drifted to the empty chair and she could almost hear Lilly, _Dalmatians are so last season, Logan_. She shook her head, refilled their glasses of lemonade and poured one for Logan. "Why aren't you staying with her?"

Duncan snorted. "You're not serious right?"

Veronica conceded the point. She would rather live in Logan's old dump above the liquor store than live with Celeste Kane. "And you're running Kane Software now?"

"Sort of." He took a long sip of his lemonade. "Clarence provided me with a high school diploma under my new name. It was enough to enroll at the University of Melbourne- business major, but I didn't get to finish."

Living on the run to save his daughter was the most admirable thing Duncan ever did. For once, he didn't stand idly by and just let the Mannings take custody, but the sacrifices were plenty. When she helped him run, part of her thought he was crazy even though there was no other way. Now that she had Wyatt she better understood that there were no sacrifices you wouldn't make to protect your child. Logan looked at her and she knew he was thinking the same thing. A bit of the uneasiness surrounding this reunion ebbed.

"The Chief Operating Officer, Charles Shepherd is in charge of day-to-day operations and he's been acting as CEO since my dad… Now that I'm back, I've taken over, but there's a lot to learn."

Veronica glanced at the cell phone, "I should probably feed her lunch before she falls asleep." It was a hint that it was time for him to go, but he didn't take it. She sighed and started to gather up the glasses.

"The thing is, Kane Software is in the middle of developing a piece of cutting-edge technology and I think someone's trying to steal it." Her hands stilled as a sense of dread descended over her. She was positive she knew why he was here and his next words confirmed her suspicions. "I really need your help Veronica."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Leaving Logan and Duncan in the living room with Wyatt as a buffer, she fixed lunch- hummus, fresh turkey and spinach leaves on a whole wheat wrap. She rolled the sandwich and sliced it into pinwheels. Wyatt was learning her shapes and this week she was obsessed with circles. It was easier to get her to eat if all her food was round.

Using an apple corer, Veronica created a tube of cheddar cheese and started slicing it into thick nickel-size circles. She stopped when she heard Duncan. "She looks like Veronica."

Moving the cutting board to the opposite counter near the doorway, she awaited Logan's response. _I am not eavesdropping; I'm concerned_. "Yeah," was his mumbled reply. She leaned to the side to peek into the room. All three of them were facing the television; Wyatt was curled on Logan's lap, sucking her thumb. Before Veronica could pull back, Logan turned his head and caught her spying. "She has her mother's curiosity too."

She smiled at him, scooted back into the kitchen and got grapes from the fridge. Putting them between two plates, she sliced between the dishes and cut them in half. _Thanks Dick_. He'd laughed when he saw her cutting them one at a time and demonstrated his neat trick. _Now if he could teach me a way to make them triangles for next week._

In the living room, Duncan asked, "The Navy?"

"Mustered out." The conversation was stilted and awkward with another long silence before Logan asked, "Hong Kong?"

"I wanted an English speaking school for Laurel; we lived in The Peak not far from Wan Chai."

"I've been there," surprise tinged his words. "We docked at Fenwick Pier…the red-light district…" His voice dropped too low for her to hear. _Not that I want to know what he was doing in the red-light district._ "…very popular with the sailors."

Duncan laughed. "I can see why…man, I can't believe we were so close."

"I…" The volume of Ursula's evil laughter drowned out the rest of Logan's sentence. Veronica shuffled closer to the door. "Ever go to Neptune two?"

"Once when…" Again she missed the end of the story, but whatever it was they both found it amusing; their laughter mingling over the sound of The Little Mermaid.

"I need to see that picture." There was no verbal response from Duncan and she assumed it was a nod. _Boys._

Veronica arranged the food on a plate, filled a sippy cup with milk and headed inside. "Lunchtime."

Wyatt pulled her thumb from her mouth. "Cheese?"

"Yes little mouse and grapes and turkey too. Do you want to eat at your table?" Wyatt nodded and slid off Logan's lap. Veronica put her lunch on the white wood table in front of the pink pastel chair.

"Daddy too," she pointed to the green chair, which was reserved for Logan for all their fancy tea parties.

Veronica was about to make an excuse for him when he turned off the television and took his seat at the table, eating his knees in the tiny chair. "Totally wrapped," she whispered in his ear. He smiled, perfectly happy with her assessment. "Do you want lunch too?"

He shook his head and Wyatt held out a piece of cheese for him. "Me share Daddy." He ate the cheese and nibbled on her fingers.

Veronica turned to Duncan. "Lunch? There are more sandwiches in the kitchen."

"No thanks."

"Okay then so tell me about this cutting edge technology." She took the seat across from him and waited. Now that she was focused and willing to listen, he seemed reluctant to talk. Veronica blew out a puff of air in exasperation.

"We…no one discusses the project outside of work, we all signed confidentiality agreements." He shook his head. "Our lawyer didn't want me to talk to you unless you signed one too." His cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the admission. "I said we could trust you."

_Hello? Accomplice to a federal kidnapping here_. "Gee, thanks."

He sighed. "I should probably start at the beginning."

"There's an idea."

Duncan ignored the sarcasm. "When I was in Hong Kong I was approached by this couple, James and Mai Soong; he's a computer engineer and she's a programmer. They knew who I was and they were looking for funding to develop this product." She gave him an encouraging nod. "It's a computer tablet that's as thin as a sheet of paper and just as flexible. We're calling it Smartpaper."

"Okay." It didn't sound that impressive to her. Every day companies were trying to make electronics that were smaller and thinner.

Her lack of interest in the actual product was apparent to him. "You really need to see the prototype to understand…it's waterproof and solar powered and we're also developing a phone with the same technology. It will respond to bend commands."

Mac would probably care about all these bells and whistles, but she was more interested in the case. "Are they working on it in Hong Kong?"

Duncan shook his head. "The Chinese government still kind of supports the idea of collective ownership. They've made a lot of changes to their intellectual property laws, but" —he shrugged— "the Soongs are here on work visas and they're applying for citizenship."

"I think that's enough cheese." Veronica glanced at the table. Logan was scooping the remaining cheese circles off Wyatt's plate and she did not look happy. "Try some of your turkey."

She scrunched up her face and jabbed the pinwheels with her finger. "No like it."

"You haven't eaten it yet."

"It's gween." That's what I get for trying to sneak spinach past her.

"You like grapes and they're green." Logan's logic did not persuade her. She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. "One bite and if you don't like it Daddy will get rid of the green stuff." That was their deal; she had to at least try something before declaring she wouldn't eat it and usually Wyatt was willing to play along.

She took a bite, but in a matter of seconds she stuck out her tongue and let the partially chewed sandwich fall on the table. "Yuck." Logan handed her the sippy cup to wash away the bad taste and took apart the pinwheels leaving just the turkey on her plate.

Veronica pulled her attention back to Duncan. "Why do you think someone is trying to steal it?"

"Only eleven people know about the project including me; yet there are rumors that our competitor, Microtech, is developing a bendable phone."

"Isn't it possible they came up with it on their own?"

He frowned at her. "At the exact same time?" She shrugged; it sounded plausible to her. Technology moved so fast and there were plenty of products on the market that closely resembled each other. "One of our initial drawings was stolen."

"Way to bury the lead." There were plenty of ways to commit corporate espionage: tapping phones, stealing files, dumpster diving. "So you think someone at Microtech broke in…"

Duncan shook his head. "There were no signs of a break in."

"They pulled it from your trash? Maybe paid a janitor to…"

"Nothing is kept on paper. All the data is stored on a hard drive that's kept under lock and key. At the end of each day, every note, drawing, doodle is scanned into the computer and the paper is shredded."

"There's this newfangled thing called computer hacking, maybe you've heard of it?"

He smiled. "Glad to see your love of sarcasm hasn't changed."

"Qu'est-ce que c'est sarcasm?" From the corner of her eye she could see Logan shaking his head; a smirk on his face.

"The computer is a standalone; it's not networked and it has no Internet access. I think it's an inside job. One of the people working on the project is selling the information to Microtech."

"Isn't there still a way to access the computer? I remember something about the NSA using radio waves to—"

"The entire lab is protected by a Faraday cage."

Veronica arched a brow at him. "Faraday cage?" Duncan gave her a blank stare and shrugged.

"Like the jar in Enemy of the State." She frowned at Logan's explanation. "You know the movie with Gene Hackman and Will Smith? A Faraday cage is a grounded screen that blocks electromagnetic signals; so no radio waves, no Wi-Fi or cell signals either." She gave him a questioning look. "Planes are shielded to act like Faraday cages. They're even trying to develop a cage for naval ships by using the electrical conductivity of seawater."

"So no parabolic dish to listen in on interesting conversations?"

He smirked. "They're anti-Veronica devices."

"I don't think I like this Faraday."

"Well I'm sure he would've loved you." He kissed the top of her head on his way to the kitchen with Wyatt's dishes. She trailed behind him like a little shadow. "Stories and then nap time, Jellybean."

"Moo, Baa, La, La, La Daddy."

Veronica grinned. It was her favorite story book and Logan totally committed to the animal voices; his best was the snort and snuff of the rhinoceroses, which made Wyatt laugh and try to imitate him. Duncan was really eating into her family time. "Do you want me to run background checks on the employees?"

"We already did that before we hired them and we continue to monitor their finances for any unusual activity" —he shook his head— "there's been nothing out of the ordinary."

"We?"

"CW, he's the one who ran the background checks and set up all the security protocols. His company patrols the grounds after hours and there's a man stationed outside the lab overnight."

"Isn't that a little excessive? I mean it's not exactly the cure for cancer; it's a computer."

"It's technology worth billions of dollars."

_And the rich get richer._ "If nothing is kept on paper, how do you know a drawing went missing?"

"We have auditing software on the computer and once a week we review the reports; the PDF of the drawing was copied to a USB."

She frowned. "Why not copy the entire hard drive? Why just that one file?"

"CW thinks that was the bait; proof to show Microtech they had access to the research."

That made sense. One copied file might go unnoticed or could be explained away as an error on the audit, but not an entire hard drive and one file would be enough to go peddling for a buyer. "I'm not really sure what you want me to do for you."

"I want you to come work at Kane Software; you know, undercover and figure out who's stealing the information."

Her deal with Logan was over and she'd mostly stuck to her end of their bargain: concentrating on bigger office space, hiring new people, and expanding the business. There were a few forays into the world of the short stay motel and money shots, but mainly she'd left the potentially dangerous work to her dad and Mars Investigations new field agent, Lisa.

Now that Logan was home she was back to handling any case that crossed her desk. She just didn't know if she wanted to handle this one. Duncan was studying her, but unlike Logan, he was never adept at reading her moods. She kept her features schooled in a placid mask and her tone casual. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee; do you want one?"

"Okay." He followed her into the kitchen and she gestured toward the carousel of K-cups. Duncan selected a regular Italian roast and she went for a decaf mocha java. After fixing their coffees, she took a seat at the table.

"Why do you want to hire me? Why not just have Clarence take care of it?"

"He's actually the one who suggested it. He said you haven't really been working and with our history no one would be suspicious about me hiring you."

Our history. Those were the words that gave her pause. "I don't know enough about computers to fake my way onto a project like this. You need something Googled, I'm your girl; design new software? Not so much."

"We have a secretary that takes care of the scanning and shredding at the end of the day, but it's…time consuming. I suggested we hire another person," he pointed to her.

Logan walked into the kitchen before she could answer. "That didn't take long. How many times did she make you read it?" He wiggled three fingers at her and she smiled. "At least it's short."

"I do have a fondness for short…stories and people." She rolled her eyes. "You keep doing that and Wyatt's going to pick up your bad habit."

"Then maybe you should stop making with the cringe-worthy jokes."

"Who was joking?" He fixed himself a cup of coffee. "And FYI my jokes are a scream."

"Scream inducing."

"I've been known to induce screaming, but not usually in the kitchen…_although_" —he patted the counter top and waggled his eyebrows— "Wyatt is sleeping."

Duncan shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable and her cheeks were burning. "Logan," she chided and he grinned at her. "Uh," she shook her head to clear her thoughts and turned back to Duncan. "Did you specifically tell the others you wanted to hire me?"

"Not by name if that's what you mean."

They didn't need the work. Apparently solving the homicide of a famous actress did wonders for one's business. Mars Investigations was busy and they were making enough money to be able to pay Logan back for his unconventional loan; even though he refused to take it. _Stubborn man._ "I think it would be better if my dad handled your case."

She didn't know who was more surprised Duncan or her husband. Both of them were staring at her as if she was suddenly naked. Veronica glanced down. _Nope still wearing clothes._

"Your dad won't exactly…fit in at Kane Software." He frowned. "What I mean is—"

"I know what you meant." Keith Mars had history with the Kane family, but so did she and neither of them would blend in at Kane Software despite what Duncan thought. "Our new agent, Lisa, will be perfect for the undercover work and my dad can handle the background stuff."

"Is it because you're pregnant?" Or because you don't want to work with me. He didn't say it, but she'd seen his expression enough times in the past to know he was hurt.

She went with the lie because it was easier than trying to explain and nodded. "Like Clarence told you, I haven't been doing field work and I'm not really sure I'm up for it right now." Logan was smirking. He knew she was full of shit, but he kept his mouth shut. "I'll still be working on the case with my dad, but he has more experience with industrial espionage than I do."

He turned his head to look at Logan who quickly took a sip of coffee to mask his expression. Seeing nothing in his relaxed posture that belied Veronica's claims, Duncan nodded. "Okay. Do I need to meet with him?"

"No. I'll fill him in and have him call you at the Grand to finalize the details. Lisa can probably start work first thing Monday."

He stared into his cup, "I…I really want you two to meet Laurel; maybe we can…" Raising his face, he leveled her with a beseeching stare.

Veronica put her hand on his arm. "Dinner?" A wide smile of relief crossed his face. She glanced at Logan who nodded in agreement. "We can go to Belmont Park- dinner and a ride on the Dipper?"

Logan smirked. "You only want to go there for the monster ice cream cones."

"Uh, you're forgetting the hot dog on a stick and funnel cake." He shook his head. "Well it's not like I can go on any rides."

"That doesn't mean you have to eat your way through the park."

"You have fun your way and I'll have fun my way." Logan opened his mouth and she cut him off, "Don't even say it." His lascivious grin suggested there were plenty of ways for them to have fun together. Veronica stood up- _time for Duncan to go home now_. "Does next Saturday work for you?" She collected the mugs and put them in the sink.

"Yeah that'll be perfect; Laurel will love it." He pursed his lips. "Of course she won't admit she's having a good time, but…" He shrugged.

"Ah, the apathetic and indifferent teen years; I remember them well," Logan said with a wry smile.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "You should remember them well; you played them at expert level."

"I do most things at expert level" —Logan frowned— "Or have you already forgotten about last—"

She clamped her hand over his mouth. "Why don't you walk Duncan to the door?"

He nodded and she moved her hand. "—night." His expression was completely unapologetic. She smiled and turned away to start loading the dishwasher. Logan pushed himself off the counter and walked toward Duncan. "Do any surfing in Big Wave Bay?"

"Some, but the triads smuggle…" The rest of their conversation was lost to her as they moved further away from the kitchen. It was more than a little frustrating to have missed most of their dialogue from today. Briefly she wondered if Logan remembered to turn off the baby monitor when they came in from the pool. If not, she could check their cloud account for the video footage. _Not that I'm going to do that._

"Not really sure if you're up for it right now?" He was leaning in the doorway.

"I'm not."

The words caused his teasing smile to disappear and concern pooled in his warm brown eyes. "Are you feeling okay?" Moving behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and rested his hands on the small mound of her belly.

Veronica leaned against him, "I feel fine. I just don't want to do it." She turned in his arms to face him. "Thanks for not giving me away."

"I'm not going to get on that ride again." She gave him a puzzled head tilt. "The Kane carousel; where we move based on the tune they play. You're my wife and you come first; your secrets are my secrets."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

After Duncan interrupted their weekend, first with his appearance on Saturday and then an entire Sunday morning spent briefing her dad and Lisa on his case, she considered taking off from work, but her little family wasn't home today. Logan and Dottie's son, Jake, were taking Wyatt to look at planes.

He'd already decided against purchasing the Cessna 152, a Land-O-Matic, simply because it was too easy to fly. Logan and his love of all things difficult. He was torn between a Piper Warrior and a Piper Tomahawk, but he really wanted to go up in the Liberty XL-2. When Wyatt announced, "_Me go flying_," this morning on their way out of the house, Veronica almost fainted and Logan's, "_Don't worry she'll be fine,_" did nothing to calm her fears. _I should've gone with them_. The idea of her baby in one of those tiny little planes made her dizzy.

Veronica parked the BMW in her reserved spot and headed inside. Their new office space was technically old office space. When the 09er club opened down the street from Mars Investigations it gentrified the entire neighborhood making it too expensive for them to stay, but now they were back. The building had undergone major renovations and it was definitely ritzier than when they left. Gone were the worn vinyl tile floors, dingy walls and commercial glass office door. In their place were walnut wood floors with matching doors and moldings, but they'd kept some of the architectural features she loved like the wood-beamed ceilings and the stained glass.

Logan joked that the only reason she chose their old building was so that he wouldn't unexpectedly stop by in the middle of the afternoon; _mister usually avoid buildings with stained glass_, but the real reason was that it felt like home. Even with all the changes to the building and the neighborhood there was something about walking through the familiar front door that gave her a little jolt of happiness. _Thomas Wolfe was wrong._

They were on the ground floor in a larger suite: four offices, a professionally decorated reception area, their own bathroom and a small kitchen. Most of the kitchen counter space was occupied by an _expensive_ Breville Oracle Espresso machine, which Logan said was an office-warming present, but was in reality a gift for Mac. There was some discussion about him owing her for a candid picture of a pregnant Veronica in his boxer shorts and fuzzy socks and Mac was happy with her perfectly brewed lattes: _It's not a BMW, but it'll do._

"Good morning Mrs—" Veronica held up her finger to silence the new secretary. She'd told Paige several times that at work she was Veronica Mars and to please call her Veronica, but she continued to persist with the Mrs. Echolls. That was the one and only unpleasant side effect to her marriage. "Sorry, Veronica."

Paige was a recent hire. Despite the fresh-faced and naïve exterior, she was very smart and good at her job. Unlike their last secretary whose only skill seemed to be an advanced degree in shamelessly flirting with all males under the age of dead, Paige recently finished Hearst with a double major in English and Economics and was deciding what to pursue in graduate school. "Is my dad in yet?"

"He's in his office with Dottie." She handed her a pile of messages. "Duncan Kane called twice this morning and said it was important."

"Thanks." _Duncan Kane will just have to wait_. She rapped on her dad's door before entering. Dottie was sitting on the edge of the desk watching Keith hang his framed panoramic photo of Qualcomm Stadium from when the San Diego Padres won the National League Championship. Veronica grinned. "What's the difference between a Padres fan and a baby?" Her father shot her a look over his shoulder. "A baby will stop crying after awhile."

"You resemble my daughter, but she would know better than to make a Padres joke to her beloved father."

"I got a million of 'em. What's the difference between dirt and the San Diego Padres? Nothing- they both always get swept." Dottie laughed.

"I'm going to have to ask you both to leave now and then I'm going to have a serious discussion with my son-in-law about his influence on my only child."

Dottie patted his arm. "Don't give up hope; there's still a chance that Wyatt will be a baseball fan."

"Opening Day baby."

Veronica rolled her eyes at Dottie who shook her head. The two of them had been listening to the Opening Day Plan endlessly since Christmas. Keith, Logan, Dottie's three sons and Wyatt were going to spend the day at Petco Park for an afternoon of Padres baseball in what Keith hoped would be the beginning of a new family ritual. "Did Clarence send over the background checks on the Kane Software employees?"

"He brought them by personally." He pointed to the thick file on his desk. "It's not that I don't love the weird assortment of people you collect, but no one should have to deal with Clarence Wiedman before their morning cup of coffee."

"Finally figured out how to use the espresso machine?"

"No this here is an average Joe who likes his coffee the same way- plain and ordinary. I stopped at 7-Eleven like the rest of the poor working stiffs."

"Don't worry beloved father, I see a Mr. Coffee Machine in your near future." Veronica picked up the file. "It will be old and obsolete just like your dreams of the Padres ever winning the Series."

"You're lucky I love you kiddo."

She kissed his cheek and took the background checks to her office. Compared to her father's office, her space seemed generic and sterile. There were no framed family photos or laminated degrees. A 'What Your Office Says about You' article indicated her lack of obvious personal items meant she was emotionally unavailable and cold. She preferred to think of it as cautious and private. Besides anyone who really knew her would be able to identify all the personal touches around the room: a small wood box with a carved sweet pea flower on its lid, the crowbar resting on her bookshelf, and an impressionist painting called The Pacific by Maurice Braun, which was from Lynn's collection of artwork and made her think of Logan.

Veronica opened the file from Clarence. According to Duncan, there were eleven people who knew the details of the project including him. There was no background check on Duncan and the ones on both James and Mai Soong were painfully slim. She guessed it was because of their recently transplanted status from Hong Kong to California. She put them to the side and made a mental note to have Mac look into both of them.

Of the remaining eight people four held Masters Degrees in computer science, information technology, mechanical engineering, and applied science; two were computer programmers and the last two were the COO Charles Shepherd and the secretary responsible for shredding, Karen Brighton.

Karen was the most obvious candidate and the one Lisa would be focusing on first. She definitely had the ability to commit the crime since it was only a matter of copying computer files (means), she made the least amount of money (motive) and she was alone with all the research for several hours each day (opportunity). Veronica put the background check back in the file and pushed it away. Not my case.

While waiting for her computer to boot, she flipped through the phone messages ignoring the two from Duncan and smiling at the one from Wallace. She'd just talked to him last night and knew the only reason for this morning's call was his desire to talk to Paige. _You're a sly dog Papa Bear_. Veronica tossed it in the trash with the ones from Duncan and returned her other calls- clients looking for updates on their cases.

When she was done with the calls, she turned her attention to the inbox. As promised, before heading to Kane Software this morning, Lisa had left the files for the two cases she was working. One was a nasty custody battle involving a rich 09er and trophy wife number three. He was claiming trophy wife was a drug abuser and seeking full custody of Junior. He'd hired Mars Investigations to get proof of her drug use and Lisa had been following her around for the past three nights without finding anything. Her cynical note in the margin, _maybe Daddy only wants custody in order to retain control of Junior's trust fund_, made Veronica smile.

The second case was insurance fraud: a slip and fall. They were hired by her old friend from Smart Start, Jimmy Kincaid. Apparently, one Michael Galan claimed he tripped over improperly secured cables and was seriously injured. He was collecting disability insurance and pursuing a lawsuit against not only Smart Start, but also the company Jimmy was working for at the time and the convention center. Michael was asking for five million dollars in his suit, but Jimmy was sure he was faking it. Lisa hadn't done much with the case yet except for '_checked out his residence_,' which was code for breaking and entering to search, where she happened to overhear a message on his answering machine; _hey are we still on for bowling next Friday at Fun Bowl?_ Veronica marked the date in her calendar and added the words get babysitter and bring Logan.

Glancing at the clock, she frowned. It was almost one and she hadn't heard the grinding, clanking, and gurgling noises from the espresso machine even once. She left her office in search of Mac. "Where is the Grand Poobah this morning?"

Paige didn't look up from the report she was transcribing. "Job interview at Kane Software."

"Whatchu-talkin-bout-Willis?" Her surprise was evident in her voice and Paige's expression rapidly changed from concentration to deer-in-headlights.

"Uh, it's, uh, for that case Mr. M. and Lisa…"

The sound of the office door opening was followed by a happy cry of, "Mama!" She turned toward her daughter, but not before catching the look of utter relief spread across Paige's face. Wyatt threw herself at Veronica's legs and she scooped her up in a hug. "Too tight," Wyatt complained. She started to wriggle and Veronica loosened her grip.

Logan and Jake exchanged _overprotective mom grins_ and she resisted the urge to hit them both. "I told you she'd be fine."

"Because she remained on the ground, right?" Jake shuffled his way toward the kitchen and Logan decided something on the ceiling required his immediate attention. I knew it was too much to hope for. "Logan."

He smiled. "We had fun didn't we Jellybean?"

Wyatt's head bobbed up and down. "Me like flying." Her eyes rounded in awe and in a dramatic whisper she added, "Lotsa buttons Mama." She poked at the air and then flipped imaginary switches.

Veronica's head swiveled in Logan's direction. "You didn't actually let her touch anything."

"Sure, I let her fly. She was doing pretty good too until the engine stalled and… I'm kidding Veronica." He wrapped his arms around the two of them. "We were on the ground for all button pushing."

"What's all the commotion out here? Some of us are trying to work you know." There was a wide grin on Keith's face.

"Gwanpa!" Wyatt squirmed free and went running across the office to Keith. He swung her up in the air and spun her around. "Me flying with Daddy and taw teals." Keith arched a brow at Logan.

"_Seals_\- we flew past La Jolla Cove," Logan clarified.

"Oh I understood the _teals_; I was hoping I misunderstood the flying part."

"She was perfectly safe Dad; Logan's an excellent pilot." Veronica could feel Logan's stare. She chanced a quick glance in his direction and instantly regretted it. Amusement danced in his eyes and his sly smile told her she was in trouble.

"As a matter of fact, Veronica is going flying with me this weekend." The challenge was unmistakable and he thought he had her. _Sucker_.

She gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Oh honey, I would love to, but" —she patted her tummy— "No small planes without cabin pressure while pregnant."

He moved closer like he was going to kiss her and whispered— "Well played" —in her ear.

Veronica turned her face, cupped the back of his head and brought his mouth to hers in a soft kiss. Before releasing him, she murmured, "Slow learner."

Logan chuckled. "Can I at least take my beautiful wife and daughter out for lunch?"

"I could be convinced."

"The mention of food wasn't enough?" She elbowed him. "I promised princess jellybean banana pancakes from the Mission Café…they have tamales _and_ nachos."

"Now you're speaking my language Echolls." Spicy food was all she wanted to eat lately- the hotter the better. Last night she added chili powder to vanilla ice cream and it was heavenly. "Where did Paige go?"

"I'm right here." She walked out of the kitchen with Jake in tow. Uh-oh Papa Bear, you may have competition. "I was just showing Jake how to work the espresso machine."

Jake held up his cup of coffee as proof. "I'm supposed to be picking up my mom." _Right your mom; not my secretary_. Jake Brennan was six feet of sexy: black hair, green eyes with a firm, square jaw and dimples. "Is she still here?"

Keith shook his head. "I gave her my car, but she wanted me to remind you about dinner tonight."

"Yes sir, I'll be there."

Veronica groaned. "Don't call him sir, it will go to his head."

Logan smirked. "I seem to recall him really liking dude." Keith frowned at the two of them.

"No sad face Gwanpa," Wyatt stuck her fingers in the corners of his mouth and pushed his lips back into a smile. He gave her an actual smile and a big kiss before putting her down. She opened and closed her hand, palm pointed at her face in a backward wave. "Bye-bye."

Logan scooped her up and put her on his shoulders. "Ready for lunch?"

"Pancakes!" Her expression grew serious and she leaned over Logan's head to see his face. "With nanas?"

"With bananas." Wyatt kissed his forehead and smiled. "Want to join us?"

Jake shook his head. "Thanks, but I've gotta take a pass. Mom wants me to pick up Nick." Dread suffused his words and the two men exchanged a knowing look. Paige scooted closer to Jake and took his empty cup. He rewarded her with a grin and a flash of those dimples. "You I'll call" —he turned back to Logan— "you I'll see tomorrow."

"And don't be late this time."

Jake started to flip him off, remembered Wyatt and dropped his arm. "Bye-bye bean." Wyatt leaned over and kissed his cheek. He offered a casual wave to the office before leaving.

"Tomorrow?" At her question, Logan nodded his head toward Wyatt and then gave it a small shake. It was their signal for can't discuss in front of the baby, but if the way Wyatt was staring at her was any indication it was time for a new system. Veronica smiled.

"She's doing the Veronica isn't she? Head tilt, narrowed eyes, highly suspicious."

"It's crossed with the Logan: sarcastic smirk and intense stare." They grinned at each other. "I'll meet you outside; I just want to talk to my dad for a minute." He kissed her forehead and headed out. Right before the door closed, she heard Wyatt ask _what 'morrow Daddy?_

_That's right Wyatt, you question your Daddy while I question mine_. This time she didn't knock. At the sound of the door, Keith looked up from the paper he was reading; his smile slowly fading at the expression on her face. "Why is Mac at Kane Software?"

"To get her old job back." Veronica just stared at him. "We needed someone on the inside who knows computers."

"And you just forgot to mention that part of the plan when we went over the case in detail on Sunday?"

Keith shrugged. "Lisa suggested it after we left and I thought it was a good idea."

She picked up the phone on his desk and held the receiver to her ear. "It seems to be working, there's a dial tone and everything. Did you forget my number?"

"You said you didn't want to be involved in the case."

"No, what I said was I didn't want to have to deal with Duncan." Veronica returned the receiver to its cradle with a little more force than necessary. "But when you send one of my best friends…she's not an investigator, Dad."

"I know that Veronica. We only asked her to learn about the project, nothing else and she wanted to do it. She seemed really excited about this Smartpaper."

She rolled her eyes. "Have you met Mac? Of course she was excited, but that still isn't a reason…I don't like it."

"Lisa was hired to shred paper. That's only going to get her close to Karen. Mac will actually be able to work on the project." Keith abandoned his chair, circled the desk and stood in front of her. He rested his hands on her shoulders. "And that's all she'll be doing: working on the computers. No investigating, no undercover work and Lisa will be with her the entire time."

"I still don't like it."

He pulled her into a hug. "She'll be fine honey, don't worry." Veronica returned the hug. "And speaking of worry" —he stepped back to see her face— "how are you and Logan doing?"

"You mean with Duncan being back?" He nodded and she shrugged. "We're going to have dinner with him and Laurel on Saturday."

"And Logan's okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"It's just that you and Duncan…" Keith shook his head. "Forget I said anything- I'm sure it's fine." He gave her another hug. "Aren't you supposed to be going to lunch? You don't want to keep Wyatt waiting too long for her pancakes."

Veronica frowned. "I love Logan."

"I know you do honey. Just remember to tell him that."

The words, _Logan knows he's got nothing to worry about,_ were right there, but she held them back. After all their conversations about Duncan, he should know there was nothing to worry about, but feelings weren't always rational. She remembered his face every time he looked at her with Duncan during senior year. Not the wiseass smirk he'd wear to cover his feelings, but his sad eyes.

Logan was so good to her when she went off the deep end about Lilly and Carrie; _I'm Veronica Mars, the consolation prize_. He was gentle and reassuring; _I didn't love either of them the way I love you…it's always been you Veronica_. Now it was her turn to do the same for him. "I will Dad."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"Logan?" She snuggled closer and kissed his neck. His _mmm_ was a little testy and translated to: _I can hear you, but if you stop talking, I can continue sleeping_. Veronica smiled. They'd hardly seen each other all week. She'd been following the trophy wife around at night and he'd been off flying planes during the day. "I had a dream."

"It's _have_ a dream and we're not at the Lincoln monument, Veronica Luther King." _Even half asleep, he's quippy_. He frowned, opened his eyes and turned his head. "A bad dream? I thought they were gone?"

"They are," she assured him. "It wasn't that kind of dream and it wasn't last night."

He glanced at the clock, "you're waking me up at sex on a Saturday for dream analysis?"

She arched a brow at him, "sex?"

"Mmm hmm, that's what you call a Freudian slip and you know…" He cradled her hips, lifted her off the bed and positioned her on top of him. "…Freud said it's all about sex."

"A distant relative of yours I'm sure." Veronica leaned forward and kissed him. "Wyatt will be up soon and I want to tell you about my dream."

"I'd like to _show_ you mine." She waited for him to be serious. He sighed, took his hands off her and put them behind his head. "I'm all ears."

She shifted her body lower with a slow rotation of her hips, "_all_ ears?"

"Are you going to do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips?"

"Well, you know my hips don't lie." Logan sat up and slid his arms around her waist before crushing their mouths together. Her dream was momentarily forgotten in the taste of him and the feel of his hands as they moved up her back and tangled in her hair. A soft moan parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. Tugging her head back, he lowered his mouth to her neck. She shook her head, "talk first."

He fell back on the mattress taking her with him. Veronica rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She loved having him home and being able to wake up with him every morning. Sometimes there was this disquieting voice in her mind insisting they were _too happy_ and she panicked at the thought. "Hey, enough of that," he caressed her cheek, "tell me about your dream."

She rested her chin on his chest so she could see his face. "How do you always know?" His arm tightened around her and he smiled; _silly question Veronica_. Kissing his cheek, she rested her head back on his shoulder. "It was the night before high school graduation and it was a great dream. My dad was still sheriff and my parents were together and happy."

"A little wish fulfillment?"

"Enough psychoanalysis Siggy," she took his hand and laced their fingers together, "when I got to school you were there with Duncan and Dick. Lilly was still alive; she was going to Vassar and home for Duncan's graduation."

"So were you and Duncan planning to get married before or after you finished Stanford?"

"I wasn't with Duncan," Veronica lifted her head and met his gaze, "I was with you." Surprised didn't begin to describe his expression; he looked astounded. "I'm not always," she shook her head, "I'm _never_ good at telling you how I feel, but my heart has always known that you're it for me; the one, _my_ one."

Logan cupped her face, "I love you Veronica Mars."

"Echolls." He pressed their foreheads together and kissed her nose. Veronica placed her palms on his chest and pushed him down to the mattress. "Now it's only sex-thirty and we," a long, lingering kiss, "might have time for a little sexual development." She kissed her way down his chest, across his stomach and disappeared under the blankets.

"I see we're starting with the oral stage." A rustling sound came from the baby monitor and Veronica popped her head out from beneath the sheets; finger pressed to her lips to shush him. His voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm not the loud one."

"No, but you are the talker." Silence reigned from the monitor. _Toddlers and foreplay- mutually exclusive_. She wriggled out of her bikini briefs, positioned herself above him and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock; slowly sinking down the hard length of him.

Slow was not the speed he wanted. His hips jerked off the mattress, burying himself deep inside and causing her to moan. Logan's hand covered her mouth, "loud one."

She nipped at his fingers and he moved his hand, "talker." Gripping her hips, he moved her up and down in time with his thrusts; establishing a hard and frantic pace. Another loud moan fell from her lips and he swallowed it with his mouth. Letting go of her hips, his hands slid up her skin under her sleep shirt and cupped her breasts; his thumbs sweeping back and forth across their sensitive peaks.

"Mama?" The sleepy cry from the baby monitor propelled them to move faster. Logan's hand dipped between their bodies; his thumb finding and circling her clit. Veronica clung to his shoulders, her nails leaving tiny crescents in his skin and tossed her head back. _Almost there_. Another, "_mama_," from the baby monitor; this one a little more alert than the last.

His fingers and mouth found all the right spots; playing her with a practiced ease that made her body thrum. She bit his shoulder to keep from crying out as her body convulsed around him. Logan rolled them over; thrusting harder and faster, pushing her deep into the mattress. With a final jerk of his hips his body shuddered and he collapsed on top of her. They lay there panting and sated while they waited for their heart rates to slow. His mouth covered hers in a gentle kiss. "Is the baby gate up?"

Veronica blinked. She heard his question, but she was having a hard time processing the words. "Uh…I think so." He smiled before lowering his head and giving her another long, unyielding kiss. Finally, he rolled away and got out of bed, searching the sheets for his boxers. He gave up on the search and pulled a clean pair of sweatpants from the dresser. "Where are you going?"

"To get our daughter."

"Right, Wyatt, baby gate." His answering smile was smug and she threw a pillow at him, which he caught and tossed back on the bed. They'd turned Wyatt's crib into a toddler bed, but to keep her from wandering out of her baby-safe room during the night, they kept a baby gate across her door. It was only a matter of minutes before their daughter's tiny feet would hit the floor on the other side of that gate and be running into the kitchen looking for breakfast, but Veronica didn't want to get up. She rolled over and buried her face in Logan's pillow, inhaling his scent.

He'd left the bedroom door open and their hallway conversation made its way to her. "Morning jellybean; ready for breakfast?"

"Up Daddy," there was the rattle of the gate as he lifted her over it, "where Mama?"

"She's still sleeping."

"No."

A soft chuckle from Logan, "you're right she's _awake_, but she's still in bed."

"Me go get." There were some days where she was perfectly content having Daddy all to herself and she wanted him to do everything; _no Daddy do_, but there were times when all she wanted was Veronica. Apparently now was one of them. She ducked under the covers, found her underwear and tugged them on just in time for Wyatt's arrival on their bed. "Mama," she wrapped her arms around Veronica and buried her face in her chest with a sigh.

"Good morning sweet pea," she snuggled her closer and showered kisses on top of her head. Mornings were the best. Wyatt was still sleepy enough to let Veronica hold her really tight without squirming away in her constant desire to be exploring everything and anything.

"I want to cuddle too."

"Okay Daddy," Wyatt patted the mattress next to them, "you too."

Logan joined them on the bed and gathered them both in his arms, "perfection." His eyes were closed; features relaxed and a content smile on his face. _Serene_. There was no denying she loved all the parts that went into making him Logan, but this was a side of him she never would've believed possible. Some of it was the security of her not running, of her standing still long enough to let him love her, but most of it was because of Wyatt. For the first time in his life he had someone who loved him unconditionally and who he loved the same way, without limit or boundaries.

"No cry Mama."

His eyes popped open and searched her face, "Mommy's just happy jellybean."

"She's also hungry." Twin stares; one blue, the other brown and matching grins, but his was more mocking. "Pregnant remember?"

"And what's your excuse for all the other times?"

"You're just jealous that all this," she ran her hands slowly over her body and his gaze darkened, "comes naturally. While you have to work for all that," she pointed to the chiseled chest and washboard abs. "Now who wants French toast?"

"Me!" Wyatt scrambled over Logan and off the bed with Veronica right behind her.

He sighed, "what I want is to stay in bed all day."

Pausing on her way from the room, she leaned against the doorjamb. "Do you want me to call Duncan and cancel? Because I will." The two important messages from Duncan on Monday were about their plans for today. Celeste was having some kind of _thing_ tonight, which required the presence of both Duncan and Laurel so he wanted to change their dinner to a lunch with an afternoon at Belmont Park. Logan said it was fine, but he didn't _look_ fine.

"No; Wyatt's looking forward to the carousel and I promised her mini-golf and ice cream."

"We can do those things on our own."

He shook his head, climbed out of bed and then made it with precision. _You can take the man out of the Navy, but you can't take the Navy out of the man_. Logan often joked that a considerable amount of recruit training involved learning nothing but how to wear your uniform, iron your uniform, fold your uniform and stow your uniform, which was immediately followed by how to make your bed and then how to make your bed again and, if you were lucky, how to make it again. "Go cook breakfast Veronica."

"Sir, yes, sir." She saluted him and he laughed.

"We don't have time to play recruit and commander right now," he leered at her, "but maybe later? I can make you drop and give me…"

"Twenty?"

"I was thinking of something dirtier."

Veronica smiled, "I know, _sir_." She gave him another salute, did an about-face and marched down the hall. The kitchen was empty. "Wyatt?" Giggles from inside lured her into the living room. She was very good at hiding, but not so good at keeping quiet or staying hidden. "Hmm, I wonder where she went." More laughter from behind the sofa gave away her position. She liked it when Veronica pretended to look for her in things and places she couldn't possibly be, "is she inside this cup? No. What about behind…this painting? Nope. Is she in the television?" Veronica knocked on the screen. In the reflection of the television she could see Wyatt peering around the corner of the sofa and she quickly turned around, "there she is."

She started running down the hall laughing and Veronica gave chase. Logan caught her and spun her in the air. "Are you looking for this tiny one here?"

"I am and I believe she was in store for some…tickle time."

"Roger that." He disappeared into the bedroom to mess up that finely made bed with tickle time. To the sounds of her delighted squeals and his baritone laughter, Veronica started breakfast. They were going to meet Duncan and Laurel at eleven when the park opened and then have lunch at the WaveHouse Beach Club. Wyatt might be looking forward to the carousel, but _Logan_ wanted to check out the Flow Barrel; a ten foot wave machine with a perfect tubing wave.

While the thick slices of bread soaked in a mixture of eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon and sea salt, she called Mac. "You remember that I'm childless right, which means I don't have to be up this early on a Saturday."

She grinned, "and yet you are."

"Because I'm on my way into work."

"Well your boss wants you to play hooky with her today." It was probably a dumb plan, but the addition of Mac to their day might help relieve some of the tension she could already see forming between the three of them.

"You aren't my boss for the day; I'm on my way to Kane Software."

Veronica frowned, "on a Saturday?"

"Says the original workaholic."

"_Recovering_ workaholic." She melted butter in the frying pan. "Is Lisa going in to work with you?"

"She's picking me up." So far her father had been right. The only thing Mac was doing was writing code and eating lunch with one of the other programmers, Nigel. Lisa went into work with her every morning and Keith was picking her up at night while Lisa stayed behind to shred the day's paper. "I would much rather be spending the day with you."

"Liar." Mac was enjoying her work on this project; _a little too much if you ask me_. "Wyatt will miss you."

"Now you're just playing dirty."

"Eh, you call it dirty; I call it bribing with cuteness."

"Lisa's here; tell the munchkin I'll come see her tomorrow; not you, her."

Veronica smiled. "I'll be here too you know; in case you forgot, I live here."

"Fine I'll _see_ you, but I won't _talk_ to you and I'll be there for lunch so make something good… on second thought, have Logan cook."

"You're so funny…not." She hung up the phone and finished frying the French toast. "Breakfast's ready." Wyatt was dressed in faded denim overalls with white polka dots, a pink long-sleeved tee shirt and her white and pink sneakers. Logan had put her hair in pigtails and tied each with a pink bow. Veronica put the syrup away and sprinkled the French toast with powdered sugar. _Easier clean up_. "Where's Daddy?"

"Chower." Veronica started to lift her into her booster chair and she vehemently shook her head, "me do." Using her foot to steady the chair, she let Wyatt climb into her booster seat on her own. _My dad was right again; it all goes by too fast_. After putting Logan's plate in the warming drawer, she joined Wyatt at the table to eat her own breakfast.

"Did you have fun with Nana Dot this week?" An exaggerated nod before she launched into her story about the tide pools; _me saw cwabs_. It was clearly the highlight of her week since it was all she wanted to talk about after they went on Tuesday. "What else did you see?"

"Tea lug." _Sea slug_. Their day of flying on Monday was about Logan finding a plane to teach others, which he deemed _perfectly safe_ for Wyatt. Tuesday he went to fly fighter jets. Jake knew the pilots at a company in LA where you could fly in an L-39 Albatross and he worked it out for Logan to take it up on his own. Veronica frowned. _Only four months and he's missing it_. "No sad face."

"Who has a sad face and why?"

"Mama," Wyatt pointed at Veronica. _Thanks for throwing me under the bus kid_. She smiled and turned to Logan. His narrowed gaze and cynical smirk said he didn't believe the forced smile.

"I left your breakfast in the oven." She stood on her toes, delivered a hasty peck on his jaw and scurried out of the room, "going to get ready."

Veronica lingered in the shower hoping that by the time she returned to the kitchen all talk of her _sad face_ would be forgotten. Donning a pair of black leggings and a red empire-waist babydoll top, which definitely made her look more pregnant than she was, she slipped on a pair of sneakers and went to get her family. "Ready to go?"

Logan studied her appearance like she was an exhibit in a museum. "Why the rush?" He smirked, "are you hungry again?"

"It's not me; it's Ethan."

"_Hayley_ is the size of an avocado and I'm pretty sure it's Mommy who wants to eat." He draped his arms around her middle and used his palms to smooth down her shirt outlining the tiny bump.

"I'm telling you it's a boy this time."

"Nope," he kissed her neck, "it's another girl." Logan dropped his arms and went to collect Wyatt. "Let's go jellybean."

Veronica promised she wouldn't be one of those parents who only listened to children's music; unfortunately, Logan made no such promise and their car ride was filled with the not-so-dulcet sounds of such classics as _The Wheels on the Bus_ and _Monkeys on the Bed_. The only thing that made it bearable was hearing Wyatt sing along _and_ finding out that Logan knew all the words. She grinned. "Is this Wyatt's CD or yours?"

"Mine. I really like if you're happy and you know it kiss your wife." He put the car in park and leaned over the center console to kiss her. It started as sweet as his words, but quickly escalated. _If Wyatt wasn't in the backseat we would be_. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, "is it too late to go home?"

Without waiting for an answer, he got out of the car. He got the stroller and diaper bag from the trunk before taking Wyatt out of her car seat. She eyed the stroller like it was a straightjacket, "me walk."

Logan looked at the crowd and back to their very small daughter. Veronica knew he was about to protest and interrupted him, "fine, but you have to hold my hand." He didn't argue, but he wasn't happy and he didn't return the stroller to the trunk.

Duncan and Laurel were waiting for them at the entrance to Tiki Town Adventure Golf. She could see the resemblance to Meg; the downturned brown eyes, the heart-shaped face and the long blonde hair, but her sullen expression was all Duncan. "Laurel this is Logan and Veronica." She just stared at them.

"It's nice to meet you Laurel."

A slight nod at Veronica's words and then her gaze moved to Logan who remained silent. "So what am I supposed to call you guys anyway?"

He shrugged, "Logan and Veronica works for me."

Wyatt was staring at the Giant Dipper with a mixture of fear and amazement. Veronica turned her around, "this is Wyatt."

A wide smile crossed Laurel's face, _Meg's smile._ She dropped to her knees so they were at eye level, "hey Wyatt, cool name; I'm Laurel."

Wyatt's face scrunched up as she tried to figure out how to say it. She gave up on the beginning part and settled for, "ell."

"Close enough," she took Wyatt's hand and they started to head inside.

A bemused chuckle from Duncan, "I guess we're going in."

Logan took out his wallet and paid for everyone, "okay jellybean what color do you want to be?"

"Boo." He gave her the blue golf club and ball and then turned to Laurel who selected purple.

Logan looked at Veronica, smirk firmly in place. "Gee, I don't know if they make a club short enough for you."

She rolled her eyes, "just be prepared to lose Echolls."

"Can we bet on that?" There was no mistaking the glint in his eyes.

"Sure. If you win; I'll…" she batted her eyes at him, "drop and give you _twenty_." It took him no time at all to remember their earlier conversation; his grin was almost as dirty as her inflection on the word twenty. "But since you're not going to win, what do I get?"

He waggled his eyebrows, "I'll drop and give _you_ twenty."

"I don't know…I think I'd rather have ice cream." His mouth dropped open and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I'll keep score so you can't cheat."

Logan plucked the paper out of her hands, "we'll let Duncan keep score." He passed the paper and pencil to Duncan who was watching them with a baffled expression.

While the words were innocent, the suggestive tone was hard to miss and Duncan wasn't stupid so his dazed appearance probably had more to do with them as a couple. Again she could almost hear Lilly; _clue in Donut, they're married and have sex…probably great sex. _Veronica turned away before they saw her smile. Apparently, one afternoon at their house wasn't enough for the idea of "Logan and Veronica" to fully penetrate. She frowned. _What exactly was Duncan hoping to find when he came home?_


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

For the first four holes, Wyatt let Logan "help" her play, but by the fifth hole she wanted to do it by herself, _me do_, and Veronica knew they were in trouble. Fourteen more greens with a very persistent toddler and they were going to be eating lunch for dinner. Rummaging through the diaper bag, she found a package of Goldfish crackers to munch.

She'd given up counting swings and finished all the crackers by the time the blue ball finally made it into the cup. Wyatt squatted next to the hole and peered inside; a wide grin split her face and she shouted, "bee zee Daddy!"

Logan threw his head back and laughed, "BZ bean." Veronica gave him a puzzled look. "Bravo Zulu; it means well done and Bean is her callsign." He shrugged, "Jake wanted to name her Rider, but…"

Wyatt cut him off and pointed to her chest, "me bean." They smiled at each other over the top of their daughter's head.

"Get your ball jellybean." While she was busy digging her ball out of the hole, Logan leaned over and whispered something to Duncan that Veronica couldn't hear. He nodded in agreement and motioned for Laurel, "we're gonna go this way." Instead of moving toward the next hole, the two of them started walking in the other direction.

Logan picked up Wyatt and took Veronica's hand. She immediately understood his plan, but she wasn't sure it was going to work. It was a small course and some of the greens were crammed together so it was easy to see they were skipping over a few. Already Wyatt was staring over his shoulder with a frown on her face. "I don't think you're gonna get away with this."

"It's either this or we'll be here until closing." He put Wyatt down and she took off back the way they came. It was tough to pull a fast one on their daughter. Veronica ducked her head so he wouldn't see her grin. "You're a big help," he muttered as he chased after the baby, "we have to go this way Wyatt."

"No." She stood her ground; chin tilted in defiance. It was a posture Veronica recognized as one of her own and the quick glance she received from Logan said he did too.

"Okay," He shrugged, "you stay here, but _I'm_ going to finish playing and then ride the carousel." He started to turn away and paused, "are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Uncertainty crossed her face. When she didn't move, he shrugged again and started walking back to the green.

He didn't get more than a few steps before she was running after him, the rest of the course forgotten about, "up Daddy." He swung her in the air, gave her kisses and set her down next to Veronica.

"Now I believe it's my turn. Watch and learn Mars." He teed up the ball, took his swing and made a hole-in-one. "And that's how you play."

Veronica rolled her eyes, "I'm pretty sure you're still going to be buying me ice cream." She pulled another package of Goldfish from the diaper bag.

Logan frowned, "I'll be right back."

"We'll still be here," she bent her head in Wyatt's direction. It wasn't her turn, but she was playing anyway. She hit the ball hard enough to send it skittering off the green into the fake tropical plants along the side.

Logan grinned as she trudged through the plants looking for her ball. Once she found it, he turned to Duncan. "D, I'm counting on you to make sure my wife doesn't cheat."

"Please; like I need to cheat to beat you," she called after his retreating back. "Is he really in the lead?"

"Yeah, by four strokes; it looks like no ice cream for you." The words _no ice cream_ made Wyatt pout and Duncan laughed. "She's _definitely_ your daughter."

Veronica made almost the same pout, which made him laugh harder and she turned away. "So Laurel how do you like Neptune?"

"It's okay."

"Have you started school yet?"

"Uh-huh." She was back to being quiet and moody. Everything was _it's okay _or muttered _uh-huhs_ with an occasional _no_. She didn't know if this was just her or if this was standard twelve-year-old girl forced to spend an afternoon with boring grownups. _At least she's being nice to my daughter_. In sync with the thought, Laurel leaned over Wyatt, helping her putt the golf ball. When it landed in the hole, she gave her a high five, "BZ Bean."

Veronica smiled. "Any luck finding a house?"

"There was one but," Duncan shrugged, "Celeste wanted us closer." At the mention of her grandmother, Laurel rolled her eyes. _I think I might like this kid_. "There's really no rush; we've only been here a couple of weeks and the room service at the Grand has vastly improved."

"Oh, are they _finally_ importing their caviar now?" Her words dripped with haughty disdain, "serving the _domestic_ stuff was just so gauche." It was her best Celeste impersonation and Laurel snorted with laughter. Veronica used the break in her sullen attitude to try some more conversation, "do you surf?"

She nodded, "I started when I was five." _And we've progressed to full sentences_. Veronica gave herself a silent _Bravo Zulu_.

A proud smile from Duncan, "she's really good too."

"Logan can't wait to teach Wyatt; he's already bought her a board." She didn't mention that he bought the board _before_ she was even born.

"Well hopefully her lessons will go better than yours did."

There wasn't even a snappy comeback she could make because it was true, she was a horrible surfer. "I _was_ a very graceful faller."

Veronica could practically hear the smirk in Logan's voice as he walked up behind her, "yeah if getting whacked in the head with your board is considered _graceful_."

She turned, prepared with a '_maybe if I had a better teacher' _dig, but let it slide when she saw what he was carrying; large French fries, a hot-dog-on-a-stick and lemonade. He handed her the tray and she stared at the fries. "I don't suppose…"

"What, not enough?" At her annoyed expression, he laughed and pulled a handful of hot sauce packets from his pocket. Tears welled in her eyes; _I can't believe I'm crying because he remembered hot sauce_. This pregnancy was making her moods shift like sand; from annoyance to sappy Hallmark moment in the span of seconds. Logan kissed her nose, "hey there's no crying in mini-golf." Blinking away the unshed tears, she smiled at him. _And I'm back to happy_; she sighed.

"It's your turn Veronica."

She shook her head, "you guys play without me. I'm going to eat and let my husband pretend he won."

"Pretend huh?" Logan smirked, "don't think you're getting out of our bet that easy. A forfeit is still a loss and I plan on collecting my winnings."

"Yes sir." At her use of the word sir, a look of utter disbelief crossed Duncan's face, which made her chuckle. "Are you all good here?" Logan nodded and she pointed at Wyatt, "then you might want to get our daughter." She'd discarded her club and was trying to climb the fake rocks. He put his hands around her waist, lifted her off the rock and flew her through the air, gently setting her down on the green. As a distraction technique it worked for all of three seconds and Wyatt was back to the rocks _'gain Daddy_.

Veronica took her food outside to one of the benches on the boardwalk. It wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be, but it was strange. The three of them hadn't done anything together since…the only memory she could come up with was the aborted attempt to watch _The Big Lebowski_ before Kendall arrived for her _playdate_ with Logan and thinking about Kendall was _almost_ enough to make her lose her appetite. She added more hot sauce to her fries. When she looked up, Laurel was standing next to the bench. "Are you guys done already?"

"I don't want to play anymore." She stood watching the roller coaster for a few minutes and then sat on the bench. "Were you friends with my mother?"

Veronica glanced back at the golf course. Duncan and Logan were in the middle of a conversation while Wyatt was unsuccessfully trying to hit her ball. She didn't know if the two of them had even noticed Laurel was gone. "Does your dad know you're out here?"

"I'm not a baby."

"No you're not." Veronica finished her hot dog. "Yes, your mom and I were friends."

"What was she like?"

_God Duncan don't you ever talk to your daughter about Meg_. "She was…a good person." _That's trite, Veronica_. She tried again, "Your mom was my friend even when it wasn't the popular thing to do; she stood up for me and had the courage to do the right thing."

"Is that why you helped us run away?"

"I promised her I would." She held out her fries, "want some?" Laurel took a few that weren't covered in hot sauce. "You look like her."

"That's what Dad says." Her inflection said she didn't necessarily believe either of them was telling the truth. _Does she even know what Meg looked like?_ That thought made her sad. She glanced back at the course and Wyatt.

"I have some pictures of her if you want them." Laurel smiled and nodded. When Duncan came to the house, she'd asked him if the Mannings had gotten to see their granddaughter, but he hadn't answered the question. _Wouldn't they have shown her pictures of Meg?_ "Have you met your…Stewart and Rose yet?"

She shook her head, "I think my dad's scared…I did meet Aunt Lizzie." Another smile, "Celeste does _not_ like her." If there was any Lilly in her niece, Celeste's disapproval would immediately move Aunt Lizzie to the top of the_ 'people I like most'_ list.

"How long have you been in Neptune?" Earlier Duncan said it was only a couple of weeks, but he also said they had a Smartpaper prototype. She may not know anything about product development, but that still seemed fast. _Were the Soongs working on the project in Hong Kong first?_ If so then… _it's not your case Veronica_.

Laurel shrugged, "two weeks?"

Veronica was about to ask her if she'd made any friends at school and promptly clamped her mouth shut. _I am not turning into my dad_. She held out the last of her fries and Laurel took them. "Maybe your dad can bring you to my house one day after school? A little swimming, a barbecue? I can give you those pictures of your mom."

Before she could answer, Wyatt came running toward them. "Mama, pony!" She grabbed Veronica's hand and started tugging.

She glanced at Logan, "she means the carousel right? Not an actual pony."

"Would I buy her a pony without talking to you first?" He tried for a wounded expression, but the gleam in his eyes said they needed to have a long discussion about appropriate gifts preferably before she found hay in their living room. "Yes, the carousel Mom."

"What about you, ready to ride the Dipper?" Duncan waited expectantly, but Laurel didn't seem enthused by the idea. Her eyes moved to Veronica, then Logan and down to Wyatt.

Logan caught the look too, "why don't we all ride the carousel and then I'll go with you?" Laurel brightened at the suggestion and Duncan nodded in agreement.

One ride on the carousel turned into three rides and it was still difficult to get Wyatt to leave her pony. Veronica lured her away with the promise of a boat ride, which also prevented the crying that was sure to ensue when she found out she was too small to ride the roller coaster. "We'll meet you at the restaurant."

Logan waited until Wyatt was happily ensconced in her little boat and ringing the bell before going to join Duncan and Laurel. He gave her a quick kiss, "try to get a table close to the FlowBarrel."

"How old are you again?"

"Don't be grumpy. I'm sorry you're too short to ride the roller coaster, but I didn't make the rules." She glared at him and he grinned.

The ride was short and apparently not as enthralling as the carousel because Veronica had no trouble convincing her it was time to get lunch. When they got to the restaurant the hostess told her they couldn't be seated unless their entire party was present and it was at least an hour wait. She put their name on the list, but after fifteen minutes Wyatt started to get cranky and needed to be pacified with some graham crackers.

"What are you doing up here?" Logan sat on the bench next to them.

"There's a wait." She leaned her head on his arm and yawned. "How was the ride?"

Laurel shrugged, "it was okay." The snickers from the men said she found the ride more than _okay_ and a small smile teased her lips.

Wyatt curled up on Logan's lap and stuck her thumb in her mouth. It was the precursor to nap time and if they didn't get her food, she was going to fall asleep without lunch. "We may need to eat somewhere else."

"I'll go see what I can do."

He started to get up and Duncan waved him off, "I've got it."

It took him less time to get them a table than it took her to put their name on the wait list. _I wonder how much that cost_. Their table offered a pretty good view of the FlowBarrel and her guess on the tip amount automatically doubled. It was an actual picnic table. Logan sat on one side, Duncan on the other and suddenly it felt a little adversarial and familiar…_choose Veronica_. She shook off the thought, _all in my head_, and slid on the bench next to her husband.

Wyatt tugged on Logan's arm and pointed to the wave pool, "wimming?" She looked confused by the rushing water and constant wave. To her, all bodies of water bigger than the bathtub were meant for swimming.

"No that's for surfing, look." A rider entered the pool on a board and Wyatt's eyes widened. She stood on the bench for a better view. Logan loosely wrapped his arm around her middle to make sure she didn't fall and turned to Duncan, "after lunch?"

"Uh, yeah." He nudged Laurel's shoulder, "what about you? Do you want to try it?" Her answering expression said, _duh_.

"So why aren't you at work with the rest of the team?" Duncan frowned. "I asked Mac to join us today and she said she had to work."

"Wasn't me," he shrugged, "maybe Jim needed her for something. You know…" he teased, "I may have to try stealing her away from Mars Investigations."

"Good luck with that; Mac loves me." When the waitress arrived, Veronica let everyone else order first and then asked for the chipotle chicken sandwich with extra chipotle sauce, an order of nachos with additional jalapenos on the side and truffle fries. "Oh and a bottle of hot sauce please."

Duncan chuckled, "you're right she's a veritable eating machine."

"_She_ is sitting right here and can hear you." Logan kissed her temple. In the two seconds it took him to do that, Wyatt ducked out from his restraining hand and slid off the bench to get closer to the water. She started to push her way through the gathering crowd and he bounded out of his seat after her.

"They're fast at that age."

Veronica nodded while her eyes followed the progress of Logan's head through the crowd. She lost sight of him and stood for a better view. He reappeared and returned to the table with an unhappy toddler tucked under his arm. This time he put her on the bench in between the two of them so she couldn't escape again, but she also couldn't see the pool anymore and her pout clearly told him what she thought of this plan. Logan frowned at her, "no running off like that. You scared Daddy."

Her pout disappeared and she patted his arm like she was reassuring him that she was safe. He had to fight to hide his smile. Tilting her head back, Wyatt whispered, "too tall." It had taken them a few frustrating weeks to figure out what she wanted when she used that phrase, but it soon became one of Logan's favorites because it meant he was too far away and she wanted him closer. He lowered his head and she pressed her hands against his cheeks before giving him a kiss.

"We'll go see the pool after lunch." Wyatt rewarded his words with a big smile and Veronica smirked. It was amazing how someone so small could wield such power over someone so big. He caught her look, "yeah I know, but I'm totally okay with it."

Their food arrived sparing him from her _big softie_ observation. She cut up Wyatt's chicken strips, put some of her fries on the plate and moved the chocolate milk out of sight until some food was eaten.

"Do you guys keep in touch with anyone else from high school?"

Veronica said, "Wallace," at the same time Logan said, "Dick." Then in unison they added, "Weevil."

Duncan smiled, "Wallace and Mac aren't surprising, but _Dick_ and _Weevil_?"

"We tried using small words and pictures to make them go away," Logan smirked, "but they just didn't get it. We're gonna try hand puppets next."

She rolled her eyes, "Weevil's a mechanic and has his own shop. He's got a daughter, Valentina; she'll be seven this year and Dick is," she paused for dramatic effect, "a chef."

"No way. Are we talking about the same Dick? The one whose biggest ambition in life was drinking and getting…" He fell silent, his eyes darting to his daughter.

Logan nodded, "he owns six restaurants."

Duncan shook his head in disbelief, "wow…what about his brother? Beaver right?" A pall fell over the table and from his frown, Duncan didn't know why.

"Dude, you're really behind on your current events; Miss Dent would be very disappointed." His failed attempt at levity didn't lighten the mood, but it did steer the conversation away from Beaver.

"At first I tried to find out what was going on in Neptune. Clarence would send me the Register and give me updates when we spoke, but then I made him stop. It was too hard to hear what was happening and know that I…"

"I get it; you have to let go of the past in order to move on, become someone different." There was a resigned sadness in Logan's voice and she knew he was thinking about himself; Veronica rubbed his shoulder. He took her hand from his shoulder and kissed her fingers. "Have you seen anyone else since you've been back?"

"Angie Dahl; she's the attorney my mother hired to help me with," he tilted his head toward Laurel, "Stanford Law, top of her class." His fake perkiness made Veronica smile. "I think the Sinclairs will be at Celeste's shindig later."

"I'm guessing our invitation got lost in the mail?"

"There _is_ a God," Logan mumbled. He ate his last fry, "are we ready to hit the waves?" All three of them were prepared with bathing suits under their clothes. Duncan settled the check while Veronica put a sleepy Wyatt in her stroller and they made their way to the FlowBarrel. The presence of the carriage helped part the crowd and she got close enough to the glass for Wyatt to see. All the white chairs were occupied until Logan got annoyed and shamed someone into giving up their seat. "Think you could get up and let my pregnant wife sit down?"

"Logan, it's okay; I'm fine…" He just gave her a look and waited for the teenager to vacate the chair. The kid mumbled something, which Veronica chose to believe was _sure man_, but sounded very close to _fuck you_ and she was positive he wasn't going to move until his mother pinched his arm. She smiled at the woman and glared at Logan before sitting down. He blew her a kiss and went to join Duncan. "Ready to watch Daddy surf sweet pea?"

Wyatt pointed to the water, "me do?" It was almost the same way she stared at the roller coaster, only less fear and more excitement.

Veronica smiled, "when you get a little bigger." Unsure if the comment deserved a pout since it wasn't an absolute _no_, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and went back to watching.

Laurel went first. The board wasn't big enough to be considered a surfboard, more like a skateboard and it had foot straps. While they resembled ocean waves, the sheet wave didn't actually move forward; riders gained speed by the power of the water rushing toward them. She did pretty well and Veronica was impressed. _At least she can stand up; I would've tumbled ass over teakettle_. Logan was even more impressive coasting in and out of the tube, then riding to the top of the wave and achieving air. Wyatt clapped, pointed and proudly announced to everyone around her, "me Daddy."

When he was done, Veronica heard Laurel tell him, "BZ Logan," and the two of them high-fived, grinning like idiots; _kids_.

Before Duncan took his turn, Logan nodded toward the carriage, "we're gonna take off man; it's past her naptime."

"Call me; we'll go surfing for real later this week…and bring Dick."

It was a very abrupt departure and she could tell from the way Logan was watching the water that he wanted to go again. "We can stay if you want. She'll be fine falling asleep in her carriage."

"I meant it was past _your_ naptime." He kissed her nose, "don't think I missed all the yawning and the sleepy eyes."

"You're just in a rush to get me in bed."

"Always."

She shook her head, "you need a new hobby."

"But I'm so good at the first one." He started pushing the stroller toward the car, "and it's not a hobby. I took your advice and went pro."

"I wondered where all the extra money was coming from. Any endorsement deals yet? Trojan perhaps; maybe KY or…"

"Veronica we're in a family park."

She grinned, "you started it." It was fun when she found a way to make _him_ blush for a change since he was so good at doing it to her. She strapped Wyatt into her car seat while he loaded the stroller and diaper bag. The baby was asleep before they even pulled out of the parking lot. "After all the excitement today, she'll probably be down for a couple of hours; however, shall we entertain ourselves?"

"Scrabble?"

She let her hand trail up his leg, "okay. How much will I score with the word swallow?"

"It is a seven-letter word so," he glanced at her, "bonus points."

"I _love_ bonus points."

When they pulled into the driveway, their teasing mood quickly evaporated. Her father and Dottie were waiting for them on the front porch wearing grim expressions. Dread weighed her down making it difficult to move. _If I stay in the car it won't be true_. Logan opened her door and she shook her head. Keith abandoned the porch. Her eyes followed him as he slowly walked down the driveway and squatted next to her seat. Taking her hand in his, he waited for her to look at him. "There was an accident honey. Mac and Lisa were leaving Kane Software when…"

"Are they dead?"


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Keith's expression was one she'd seen several times throughout her childhood when he was a cop. She called it his _notification face_; compassionate and understanding with an appropriate amount of sorrow, but it also exuded a measure of grit. It was the perfect balance between _this hurts me_ and _I'm going to get justice for you_. Veronica imagined it was the way he looked when he arrived on the doorstep to tell families their loved ones wouldn't be coming home. She pulled her hand from his grasp and repeated her question, "are they dead?"

"Lisa died at the scene, but Mac is in the hospital." He spoke softly; the harsh words said as gently as possible, "she's in surgery, honey."

She raised her face to Logan. He was gripping the edge of the door so tightly his hand was white; all the blood pooling to the tips of his fingers, making them blotchy and red. "I want to go there now."

He nodded once and then glanced in the backseat. She followed his gaze to Wyatt who was still sleeping soundly in her carseat. They couldn't bring their daughter to the hospital with them.

Keith, understanding the silent conversation, said, "Dottie offered to watch Wyatt while I go to the hospital with you."

"Not you, just Logan." Both of them stared at her as if they'd misheard what she said and Veronica turned away. She _knew _it was a bad idea for Mac to work at Kane Software, _told_ him she didn't like it, but he'd insisted. _She'll be fine honey; don't worry_.

There was a resigned sigh from Keith and then Logan was leaning into the car. He brushed his hand across her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm just going to bring Wyatt inside and then we'll go. Do you need anything?"

_I need Mac to be okay_. Not trusting herself to speak without completely falling apart, she shook her head and resolutely stared at the dashboard. The backdoor opened and he lifted Wyatt out of her seat. "Wait, I want…" Logan crouched down next to her. The baby was nestled against him, one tiny hand splayed across his chest. Veronica leaned forward, kissed her fingers and gently stroked her head. "Hurry."

He nodded and stood. Veronica watched him carry Wyatt into the house followed by Dottie and Keith. It didn't take him long. When he returned, he was back in jeans and tee and he was alone. Starting the car, he pulled out of the driveway and took her hand. She appreciated his lack of _Mac will be okay_ platitudes because they both knew from personal experience that those words were empty and devoid of meaning.

Despite what her father called it, there was no way this wasn't intentional. This had something to do with Mac working at Kane Software. _Every time the Kanes come into contact with my life it turns to shit_. "This wasn't an accident."

"Okay." Her gaze narrowed and she studied his profile trying to decide if he was placating the upset pregnant woman or if he was really agreeing with her. Feeling her stare, he glanced in her direction. "I trust you Veronica. I trust your instincts. If you say it wasn't an accident, then it wasn't." He gave her hand a squeeze.

The medical center was one of only two hospitals in the entire county with a level one trauma center and she was getting tired of seeing it. To save time, Logan bypassed the entrance to the parking garage and pulled up to the valet stand at the main door. "Where do we go?"

"Second floor; surgical ICU," he didn't let go of her hand as they cut across the main lobby to the elevators. When the doors slid open, he led her through the maze of hallways without one misstep or wrong turn. It was a little unnerving that he'd been here, _they'd_ been here, often enough to know the way.

Dick jumped out of his seat and was pulling her into a hug before the waiting room doors closed behind them. "They're still operating on her, Ronnie."

"She needs to breathe Dick." Logan's words made him loosen his grip and put her back on the ground, but he didn't let her go. "Has the doctor been out with an update?"

Dick shook his head and released her. The waiting room was empty except for them and Mac's family. At the sight of Veronica, Natalie's composure cracked and she buried her face in Sam's arm; her muffled cries making her shoulders shake. Ryan, turned helpless, red-rimmed eyes toward them and held out his hand. "I should go talk to them."

She forced her feet in that direction. The waiting room was a muted shade of blue. Studies showed blue was supposed to make you feel peaceful and calm, but it wasn't working for her; she was the complete opposite of calm. Logan rested his hand against the small of her back and she was acutely grateful for his presence.

The blue visitor chairs were grouped around small tables in sets of four. The Mackenzies were around the table by the window. Natalie and Sam had pulled their chairs close together and Ryan was across from them. Veronica's eyes wandered to the flat-panel television on the wall next to them. It was hung high and tilted down so you could see it from the chairs. Someone had turned off the volume, but a pretty blonde newscaster was trying to look somber while pictures of fires raging through Southern California flashed on the screen behind her. She was no good at this and had no idea what to say to them.

Sam squeezed his wife's shoulders before looking up, "thank you both for coming."

Logan nodded, "do you need anything? Food? Coffee?"

"Cindy's," his voice shook on her name and he took a deep breath, "Cindy's friend, Wallace, went to get everyone coffee."

Natalie lifted her head, locked her eyes on Veronica's face and with a steely resolve said, "she's going to be okay."

Veronica nodded in agreement, "of course she is." The lie stuck in her throat, but what was she supposed to say? _We don't know that for sure_ or _I hope so_.

Logan was just as uncomfortable as she was. She could feel his tension in the hand pressed against her spine, but outwardly he was ramrod straight and completely still. _Military training_. He turned to Ryan, "what have the doctors said?"

"Her sternum and ribs were fractured by the seatbelt. One of her ribs punctured her lung and there's…" He bowed his blond head for a minute and then raised his face to continue, "there's swelling on her brain…"

"A subdural hematoma is what they called it," Sam interjected and took over the explanation. "They're doing a craniotomy to reduce the pressure and the surgeon said it will be a few hours before they can come update us."

Natalie clutched her hand. "Do I…should I call _them_?" Veronica knew who she meant, but was surprised that Natalie would ask her opinion considering she was the reason Mac knew about the Sinclairs in the first place.

She gave her hand a gentle squeeze, "_you're_ her family; not them."

"Thank you," Natalie seemed relieved by the reassurance. "Cindy always tells me you're the person to see if I ever need help… she loves you, you know."

"I love her too." The tears she'd been trying to keep at bay streamed down her face. Logan must have heard them in her voice because he pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair.

"Come on let's go sit down." He slow walked them across the room to one of the couches against the wall. Lowering her onto the sofa, he sat next to her, keeping her pinned to his side. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

"No…just stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Dick was slumped in one of the chairs, his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. He didn't look good. She didn't know if their relationship was in the on-stage or off-stage right now, but either way she knew he cared about Mac and he'd been here by himself this entire time. "Go talk to Dick."

Logan smiled at her, "aren't you the one who just said stay with me?"

"A girl has a right to change her mind." He didn't move. "Seriously it's eight feet away, you'll still be able to see me." Reluctantly, he got up and went to sit next to Dick.

When her dad said there was an accident, her mind automatically supplied the word car to the sentence and Ryan talking about seatbelt injuries confirmed her assumption, but she needed more information. She didn't want to question the Mackenzies. Even if they knew how the accident happened, making them describe it to her seemed cruel. Veronica reached for her purse and realized she didn't have it with her. She'd put her things in the diaper bag, which was currently back at the house. Leaving her seat, she went to Logan. "Can I borrow your cell?"

He stretched, twisting his body sideways for access to his pocket and pulled out the phone. "Who are you calling?"

"Norris."

Dick's head jerked up and his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "why?"

It was easy to write Dick off as the same dumb, _entitled_ rich boy that he used to be, especially since he had no problem continuing to play that role. He was okay with people underestimating him, but Veronica knew there were more layers than _Surfer Dude_. She'd seen them; first, when he saved her and Wyatt after the shooting and again when she read Logan's journal. They still had a long way to go before she would consider them friends, but she definitely knew he wasn't stupid. "I want to ask him about the investigation."

"You don't think it was an accident, do you?" His voice was getting louder and Veronica inclined her head toward the Mackenzies. Dick glanced over there and lowered the volume, "did somebody do this Ronnie? Did somebody hurt Mac on purpose?"

"That's what I want to know."

"I'll fucking kill them."

Ryan was staring at them. Logan put his hand on Dick's arm, "why don't we take this out in the hall?"

The door to the waiting room opened and Wallace came in balancing two trays of coffee and food. Both Dick and Logan got up to help him carry them inside. They brought them over to the Mackenzies and Wallace hugged Veronica. "I'm glad you're here."

She returned the embrace, "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"Your dad didn't want to tell you over the phone; I thought it was a good call." He looked around the room, "where is he?"

"With Wyatt."

The short explanation didn't seem to satisfy him, "is he coming back?" Veronica shrugged. "Is everything okay?"

_Can I not keep secrets from anyone in my life anymore?_ "You mean other than our best friend undergoing surgery? Things are just peachy."

"You know you're going to tell me eventually so why not now?"

Veronica sighed, "I didn't want him to come. He's the one who sent her there and…"

Wallace shook his head, "nobody makes Mac do anything she doesn't want to do. Sort of like someone else we know…and have I mentioned how annoying it is?" She rolled her eyes at him. "So give me the real reason."

"I should've just turned down the case."

"You didn't know this was going to happen any more than your dad did. Mars Investigations takes plenty of cases…wait, are you saying this wasn't an accident?"

Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. "Do you know what happened?"

"Nothing too specific. They were on their way back to Mac's apartment when a car traveling in the opposite direction lost control and hit them. Lisa died on impact and they brought Mac here by helicopter."

"What about the other driver? Did he survive?"

He shrugged, "I don't know."

It still didn't feel right. She'd told Logan she was sure it wasn't an accident, but maybe she was looking for a mystery to solve to give her something to do since there wasn't anything else she could do for Mac. Veronica frowned at the phone in her hand. "I'm going to make some calls; I'll be back."

Wallace didn't try to stop her. Cell phones weren't allowed on the ICU floor so Veronica headed toward the elevators, but when she passed the desk, she stopped. "Excuse me. My sister, Cindy Mackenzie was involved in a car accident today. She's in surgery now, but I was wondering how the other driver is? The person who hit my sister and her friend."

"Do you have a name?" Veronica shook her head. The nurse flipped through the charts and then accessed a tablet computer. "I don't see any other patients from that accident; I'm sorry."

"Thanks." She continued to the elevator and called Norris. "How's my favorite deputy?"

"Considering nobody else here likes you; that's not saying much."

"Please, the Balboa County Sheriff's Department loves me. I mean come on, without me their closure rate would be zero." She hit the button for the lobby.

A loud sigh, "what do you want Veronica?"

"Can't a girl just call to chat? See how you're doing?"

"Sure they can, but you're not just a generic girl and you never call just to chat."

"That's true, I am pretty special." The elevator doors opened and she crossed the lobby.

"I was thinking of another word, but we'll go with special."

Veronica wanted to wait until she was out of the hospital before asking him questions about the accident just in case there was some errant Mackenzie family member loitering in the lobby. She exited the main doors and found herself back at the valet station. "My friend Mac was in a car accident today."

"The one out on Torrey Pines Road?"

"Maybe? A driver going in the opposite direction lost control and crashed into them. They were in a white Toyota Corolla."

"Your friend was in that accident?" His tone was cautious. She didn't know if it was because of Mac's involvement or if there was something more.

"She's in surgery now and Lisa," _was dead_. She'd been so busy focusing on Mac she hadn't even begun to process that piece of information. _Did my dad call her family?_ Veronica knew her brother lived in Washington, somewhere near Seattle, but her parents were local.

"Veronica are you okay?"

_No, not really_. The valet was off parking someone's car. She was sure he wouldn't mind if she used his chair for a minute. "Yeah, I'm okay. The driver of the Corolla, Lisa Watson, she was my…" _Employee? Friend?_ "What can you tell me about the accident? Was the other driver hurt?"

"I don't know. The other driver fled the scene." _No, that's not suspicious at all_. "There weren't a lot of witnesses; just a few people on the beach. One swears it was a Hummer, the other a Jeep Cherokee and the last one said it was a pickup truck with an extended cab. They all agree that it was red though, which matches the paint chips on the Corolla."

"Are you investigating?"

"A hit and run is a crime." Of course she knew a hit and run was a crime and because it involved injury it was a felony, but it was a wobbler, meaning the prosecutor could decide to charge it as a misdemeanor depending on the facts of the case. She didn't know if Norris was being purposefully obtuse or if that's all they considered this- a traffic violation.

"Was there anything…_suspicious_ about the accident?"

"What aren't you telling me Veronica?"

"I really don't know anything more than I'm telling you." _Yet_. "I just wanted to know if you suspected foul play." _That sounds like I'm in the middle of an Agatha Christie novel_.

"It was a bad accident. The red _truck_, for lack of a better description, pushed them into the guardrail with enough force to flip them over it and onto the pedestrian walkway. We've towed the car to impound and accident investigators have gone over the scene."

_That really doesn't answer my question_. "Will you let me know what they find when they inspect the car?"

"And I suppose you'd like copies of the reports?"

"It's like you're reading my mind." The valet was back and glaring at her. She vacated his seat and started inside.

"You know I'll give you whatever I can." He was silent for a minute. "Your friend, Mac? Is she the same Mac we went to high school with? The one who helped you figure out that wireless stuff for me?"

"Yes."

"How is she?"

Her eyes filled with tears again and she took a page from Natalie's book, "she's going to be okay," it lacked the same steely resolve. "I should really get back inside now."

"Call me? To let me know how she's doing?"

"I will." After disconnecting the call, she asked the woman at the main desk where the restrooms were. She needed a minute to herself before she went back to the waiting room. Nothing was supposed to happen to Mac, ever. She couldn't deal with it again; the loss of another friend. Not after Lilly and Meg and Piz. Veronica washed her face. _She's going to be okay_.

The waiting room was fuller when she returned. She didn't recognize most of the faces, but there was one that was familiar and Veronica was positive it was Lauren Sinclair. She hadn't seen her in years, not since…high school graduation maybe? Now that she was grown, it was easy to see the similarities between her and Mac; same hair and eye color, same round face. She turned to talk to the person next to her and Veronica felt that earlier anger at her dad find a new target- Duncan.

She stalked across the room, "what are you doing here?"

Lauren was startled. "I, um, I wanted to see how…"

"Not you, him." Veronica pointed at Duncan. "Why are you here?"

"The Sheriff came to the house to tell us about the accident. They had their Kane Software ID… I'm so sorry about Lisa." He started to put his hands on her shoulder.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

"Veronica," Logan put his hand on her arm and she shrugged him off.

"I swear Duncan if you had anything to do with this; I'm going to make you pay. Not just for this, but for everything else you've gotten away with." Something about the way she said _everything else_ made Duncan glance at Logan. They exchanged a look and her husband nodded; _yes she knows, we both know_.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Last night's confrontation with Duncan wasn't loud enough for the entire waiting room to overhear, but it was still awkward for those in the immediate vicinity and before either she or Duncan could make it worse, Logan had interrupted with a _not here_ and pulled her away. The intervention pissed her off and she was getting ready to tell him _exactly_ what she thought of his interference when the doctor arrived with an update on Mac.

_Mac_. Veronica pushed away the thought and concentrated on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she was making; first slicing off the crusts and then cutting it into triangles. She put it in a baggie and added it to the growing pile of food. After peeling and coring a few apples, she sliced them into triangles too and put them in a storage container.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing lunch for the beach." She pulled cheese wedges from the fridge and took down a box of Triscuit thin crisps. "Can you get the cooler from the garage; I can't reach it."

"Veronica, it's five in the morning."

"Thanks Big Ben." She got a jar of salsa and tortilla chips from the pantry. Logan was still leaning in the doorway watching her. "Is that a no on the cooler then?" When he didn't respond, she went back to the pantry and got the step ladder.

Four long strides and he was standing in front of her taking away the ladder. "I will get your cooler, two hours from now when we wake up."

"I'm not going back to bed." When they got home from the hospital, Wyatt was already down for the night and Veronica pled exhaustion. Disappearing into the bedroom without saying anything to either her father or Dottie, she left Logan to explain the status of Mac's condition. _Medically induced coma to relieve the intracranial pressure and reduce the chances of brain damage_. She'd been repeating the same sentence to herself for the past seven hours while she tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay." After putting the ladder away, he went to get her cooler. "Can I ask why we're going to the beach?"

"When did I say _we_ were going to the beach?"

He eyed the huge collection of food on the counter. "That's true; you could eat all that by yourself." Logan shook the box of crackers. "Are you trying to learn your shapes too?"

She smiled. "No, those are for you… or do you think you need another week of circles?"

"They're the round things right?" He made a cup of coffee and held it out for her. When she hesitated, he said, "Doctor Villella said a small amount of caffeine is fine."

Veronica took the cup and watched as he made one for himself. "You don't have to stay up with me."

"We can be overtired and under-caffeinated together." His cup paused at his mouth and he stared at her over the rim. "But you know what that means don't you?"

She nodded, "total toddler domination."

"Do you think the damage will be limited to new storybooks or are we going to wake up with a puppy?"

"Tough call." She packed the soft cooler and put it on the top shelf of the fridge.

"I thought you'd want to go to the hospital today."

Veronica shook her head, "immediate family only. We'll stop there later." Sitting idle in the waiting room for periodic updates from Mac's parents would slowly drive her crazy. _Slowly? Who am I kidding? I would last an hour tops_.

"Why the beach?"

She shrugged. "We haven't seen Wyatt since lunch yesterday; I thought she'd like a day at the shore."

"You know, as a cover story that could use a little work."

_First Wallace and now Logan, I'm really losing my touch_. Worry over Mac wasn't the only thing keeping her awake last night; she was also thinking about this case and what it would mean for her and Logan. Veronica frowned. She was afraid they would resort back to their old habits, her withholding information and keeping secrets, him being overprotective and smothering. The fear was irrational. They'd already faced two major investigations together and they'd come through them just fine. _Why do I keep waiting for something to go wrong? _"Breakfast?"

He shook his head, "conversation first and then food."

"Keeping a pregnant woman from a spicy Southwestern frittata is cruel and unusual punishment." She dug chorizo, peppers, and Monterey Jack cheese from the fridge. "If you cook," Veronica held out the carton of eggs. "I'll talk."

Logan tapped her nose with his index finger. "You're too cute to resist." Taking the eggs, he put them on the counter and pulled down a bowl. Veronica headed for the table and he put out his arm to block her progress. "Hey now, where do you think you're going? A chef doesn't do his own prep work."

"That's it, no more cooking channel for you."

"Sorry, but I'm not giving up my Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives." He handed her the peppers and a knife. "Get to dicing sous-chef."

She rolled her eyes and started cutting the bell pepper. When she was done, she moved on to the tomatoes. She'd promised him conversation in exchange for breakfast, but she didn't know where to start. "The…_accident_ happened on Torrey Pines Road by the beach."

"Which explains our day trip." Grabbing the grater from the cabinet, he started shredding the block of cheese. "What else did Norris tell you?"

"The driver fled the scene and witnesses couldn't identify the vehicle." She watched as Logan silently cooked the chorizo, staring at the frying pan with more concentration than she thought was necessary. _He's thinking of ways to get me not to investigate. _"I can't leave this alone so don't ask me to."

Still not looking at her, he transferred the sausage to a plate. "Maybe you should stop having conversations in your head with nineteen year old Logan." His sentence was slow and deliberate in that low warning tone she hated. It was the '_don't start a fight'_ voice.

"Is that what I'm doing? Because I thought I was _sharing_ with you." His mouth parted and he drew in a short puff of air before clamping his lips shut; holding in his words. Veronica sighed. She was so worried about them resorting back to their old ways and here she was doing it. _Self-fulfilling prophecy anyone?_

Logan turned off the stove and took a few steps away from her. "Are you still pissed about last night?"

She shook her head. In the moment she was mad, but he was right to pull her away from Duncan. The waiting room wasn't the place to have that conversation. "I'm worried."

"I know you're worried about Mac, but…"

"It's not just that." She turned away from him and started cracking the eggs into the mixing bowl. "I'm worried about _us_. First Duncan shows up, now this investigation and you being so unhappy and…"

"Whoa, backup a minute." He took the egg out of her hand and returned it to the carton. "Where did you get the idea that I was unhappy?"

"I know you miss the Navy; you're off flying jets everyday with Jake."

"Because he's on leave and …" Logan shook his head, "not important. I love my life Veronica, _our_ life. I don't miss the Navy and I'm not unhappy. Staying home with Wyatt was my choice and it was the right decision for me." He took her hands in his. "You have to stop this. You have to stop waiting for something to go wrong."

"This is us Logan; something usually _does_ go wrong."

"Only because we let it and we're not going to do that this time around." He wrapped his arms around her. "You're going to investigate and I'm going to worry while being helpful and supportive. And _you_…are not going to shut me out and pick fights with me before sunrise."

"Gee you make it sound so easy."

He chuckled. "Yeah, easy 'cause that's how we do things." He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Were you this emotional when you were pregnant with Wyatt?"

"That sounded very patronizing."

"Ah, ah, ah, no picking fights before sunrise." Logan released her with a soft kiss to her forehead and returned his attention to breakfast. "So what's your plan Sherlock?"

"Undercover at Kane Software might not be an option, especially after last night. I don't think Duncan is going to want me anywhere near him or his project."

"I think you're underestimating your powers of persuasion." Turning around to face her, he leaned against the counter. "Do you really think Duncan is involved?"

"You don't?"

"He does have a pretty good alibi." He waved his arm toward her and then at himself.

"But we know Duncan doesn't do his own dirty work."

Logan nodded, "but this is different than the thing with Aaron, this…"

"Thing? You mean murder?" He arched a brow. They'd discussed it several times after she entered her unholy alliance with Clarence Wiedman and they'd agreed that Aaron got what he deserved. Neither of them was going to shed a tear over the death of Aaron Echolls. It was a surprisingly easy decision for her to make; letting go of trying to solve his murder and deciding it was justice. Logan concurred, especially after she told him that Aaron confessed to killing Lilly. "Okay, yes, this is different, but…"

Crying from the baby monitor interrupted her sentence and Logan frowned. Wyatt only woke up crying if she was scared or sick. "I'll go." He grabbed the monitor and disappeared down the hall.

Taking over the cooking of the frittata, she added the ingredients to the eggs and poured the mixture into a frying pan. Once they were almost set, she transferred the pan to the oven to bake them the rest of the way.

_Do you really think Duncan is involved?_ It didn't make sense for him to hire investigators and then try to have them killed. It wasn't like he was stealing his own invention. After all, Smartpaper belonged to Kane Software…she frowned, or did it? The _Soongs_ were the ones that came up with the idea. _Was there a patent? And, if so, who held it? _She reached for the phone to call Mac and then let her arm drop to her side.

_Mac_. The surgeon wasn't able to tell them how long they were going to keep her in the coma and he wouldn't know the extent of the trauma until she woke up. The only thing he said with any decisiveness was that the craniotomy was successful and they were able to _evacuate the acute subdural hematoma_. His fancy medical jargon made her instantly hate him.

"Tutu, Mama." Wyatt came running into the kitchen wearing her bathing suit and carrying a black tutu. She thrust the skirt at Veronica waiting for her to take it. "Tutu, Mama."

Veronica took it and looked at Logan for an explanation. He shrugged. "I may have mentioned the beach." That answered why their daughter was already dressed in her watermelon swimsuit, but not the return of the tutus; she waved it at him. "Someone," he pointed at Wyatt, "insists on wearing it."

Containing her sigh, she knelt on the floor and helped Wyatt wriggle into the tulle. As soon as it was on, she happily skipped into the living room. Veronica shook her head, "I thought we hid all of them."

"We did. Nana Dot decided to buy her a new one yesterday." For Christmas, Dick had bought Wyatt the book _Angelina Ballerina_ along with her very own pink tutu and she wouldn't take it off. She needed to wear the skirt over everything from jeans to pajamas. Aunt Mackie thought it was so adorable that she bought her an entire _collection_ of them in different colors. Eight weeks- all tutus, all the time. They were finally past that stage and now they were back. "Come on, it's cute."

She grinned. "Yeah, it is." Grabbing a potholder, she took the frittata out of the oven. It looked and smelled amazing. She was half-tempted to take a fork and eat it directly from the pan. "I don't think Wyatt's going to like this."

Logan smirked. "I bet the comments on your report card under sharing were- needs improvement."

"And yours were- does not play well with others."

He slipped his hands around her waist and nuzzled her neck. "I play _very well_ with others, thank you very much."

"Kissing all the girls during recess does not count as playing."

"We'll just have to agree to disagree." He kissed up her throat and nibbled on her ear. "Will you share your frittata with me?"

"How can you make eggs sound dirty?"

"Talent." There was a slight uptick in the corner of his mouth. "It's all in the inflection."

Veronica rolled her eyes while she dished out the frittata for them and Logan made farina with raisins for the baby. After putting breakfast on the table, she went to collect Wyatt. Ten minutes alone and it looked like a toy tornado blew through the living room. She'd dumped her wooden blocks, Duplos, and Lincoln Logs in the middle of the floor and was in the process of building a very strange…_something_. "Time for breakfast Wy."

"No."

The technical term for the endless use of the word _no_ was toddler refusal, but all the child development theories they taught in her psych classes didn't really prepare her for hearing it thirty times a day from her own child. "Daddy made you farina." Wyatt didn't budge. "If we don't eat breakfast, we can't go to the beach." That got her attention. She looked at Veronica and then back at her blocks trying to decide. "We can bring your blocks to the beach." Negotiations complete; Wyatt abandoned the floor and returned to the kitchen.

It took a long time for her to eat and even longer to convince her that it was too cold to wear only her bathing suit. Veronica decided to hold back the _too cold to go swimming_ news until they were actually _on_ the beach. _I'll let Logan tell her since he let her put on the bathing suit. _Rushing through her shower, she got dressed and put an empty memory card in her camera.

Logan and Wyatt were waiting for her by the front door. She was clutching her barrel of blocks and he was carrying towels. Veronica frowned at the towels. A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips and he shook his head. "I'm wise to your plan and I'm not telling her."

"Chicken," she grumbled. Picking up Wyatt and her blocks, Veronica left him to lock up the house. "I want to start out at Kane Software."

He took the 5 north and got off at exit twenty-nine for Genesee Avenue, which turned into North Torrey Pines. As they approached Callan Road, he asked, "Do you want me to make the turn or keep going straight?"

There was no need to start from the actual building. Lisa and Mac would have come down Torreyana, made the left on Callan and then turned onto this road directly in front of where they were now. "Just go straight." The route didn't make any sense to Veronica. Wallace said they were on their way to Mac's apartment, but that wasn't right. This was a long stretch of road with no turns until they got to Carmel Valley, which then doubled back for a couple of miles. "Why didn't they just take the freeway?"

"I'm going to assume that was rhetorical."

Once they passed the office parks, the landscape opened to undeveloped space. It was a popular destination for bike riding and there were a few cyclists out for an early morning ride. A slight curve in the road and Veronica could see the ocean approaching on their left. Their two lanes narrowed down to one and she still hadn't spotted any evidence of yesterday's accident. As they crossed over Los Penasquitos Creek, she saw the damaged guardrail. "Here."

Logan was already slowing the car when she spoke. There was a bus lay-by directly ahead of them. He pulled into it and turned on the hazards. Veronica got out of the car and walked back to the accident scene. If the accident happened sooner, the car would've gone over the guardrail into the creek. If it happened later, they could've been pushed into the stone wall and crushed or shoved over the wall to the railroad tracks below. Leaning forward, Veronica looked at the potential drop. There was no way either of them would've survived that fall. _So why here?_

She took pictures of the road, the damaged guardrail and the drop. Then she hurried across the street to the median. It was flat, concrete almost two car-lengths in width and curb height. The oncoming truck would've needed to jump the curb, cross the divider and continue moving. She took more pictures and then returned to the car. When she slid back into her seat, Logan took her camera and opened his door. "My turn."

Veronica watched him walk the same path she just took, but he seemed to be spending a lot more time studying the ground. He crossed to the median and squatted on the concrete. Raising his head, he stared at the oncoming lane of traffic and then stood. Instead of returning to the car, he crossed to the beach side and walked up the road. Logan continued past where they were parked, pausing every few feet and staring back at the scene. Finally, he returned to the car and handed her the camera. "Okay Inspector Clousseau, what was all that about?"

"Je suis plus intelligent que Inspector Clouseau." Logan dropped the French. "Do you know that street racers use skid readings to see where shifts are made when a car is accelerating?"

"I don't know what any of that means."

He took the camera back and clicked through it to find the picture he wanted. "An acceleration skid mark darkens where the shift is made, which increases the torque on the rear wheels causing momentary slippage." Veronica held out her hands and shook her head. "_Braking_ skid marks are light at the beginning and get darker as they go. _Accelerating_ skid marks are dark at the beginning and get lighter."

"The truck was speeding up; not slowing down."

"There are also gouge marks in the road at the point of impact. Those happen more frequently in high speed collisions." He pointed through the windshield. "The incline of the road coming from that direction would've allowed the driver to pick up speed."

"So I was right; definitely not an accident."

Instead of confirming her statement, Logan frowned and took out his cell to place a call. "Where are you?" He listened for a few minutes. "We'll be by later; do you need anything?" Some nodding, "okay I'll stop at the house." Another brief pause, "did you take care of what we talked about last night?"

The '_be by later'_ meant he was talking to someone at the hospital and when she factored in the '_stop at the house'_, she knew he was talking to Dick. Now she just needed to know what he and Logan talked about last night.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Logan held up a hand to stave off her questions and nodded toward the backseat at Wyatt. "When we get to the beach." Putting the car in gear, he drove to Carmel Valley and made the turn. The street looped back around and he made the right on McGonigle Road at the brown wooden sign reading Torrey Pines State Beach and paid for parking. "The ocean or the lagoon?"

"Ocean," she responded without hesitation.

He wound his way through the lot, back toward the scene of the accident. When Norris said the car was pushed into the guardrail with enough force to flip them over it and onto the pedestrian walkway, he was talking about the path to the restrooms and showers. Logan navigated the Audi into a spot as close to the walkway as possible and popped the trunk.

While he unloaded their stuff, she got Wyatt out of the car. "I think it's too cold for you to go swimming today, sweet pea."

The baby pouted at her. "Me go 'wimming."

"But you'll get your tutu all wet." Wyatt glanced down at her tutu like she hadn't considered this problem. For a split second, Veronica thought she won, but then Wyatt started to push the tutu down her legs. Veronica looked at Logan. "A little help here?"

He shrugged. "Don't forget the blocks."

Wyatt sat on the ground to finish pulling off her tutu. She echoed Logan's reminder. "No 'get bocks, Mama."

Veronica frowned at both of them before leaning into the car to retrieve the tub of blocks. She handed them to Wyatt, picked her up and joined Logan at the trunk. Not only had he brought the cooler and towels, but he'd also remembered a blanket, their pop-up beach tent and Wyatt's tote of toys. The tote and tent were strapped over his shoulders and everything else was balanced on top of the cooler. She closed the trunk and followed him toward the beach.

There was still debris from the accident; tiny shards of glass, chips of car body and ripped plastic. The bigger pieces would've been towed with the vehicle to the Sheriff's impound lot for the investigation, but Veronica took her time walking through it anyway.

"See something?"

Logan's question made her realize she'd stopped. She shook her head and started moving again. _What did they find that would make someone want to kill them?_ They'd only been at Kane Software for a week. Neither of them had reported seeing anything strange and, if they had, Mac would've told Veronica when they spoke yesterday morning. _What happened on Saturday?_ Duncan seemed surprised that they were going into the office. _Wasn't me…maybe Jim needed them for something_.

The minute they reached the sand, Wyatt squirmed free of Veronica's arms, dropped her blocks and started running for the water. "Wyatt!" Logan's yell made the baby stop in her tracks. It was his stern voice, the one he hardly ever used with her, but when he did – instant compliance. "Come back and pick up your blocks."

Scowling, she did as he asked and stayed by their sides while Logan set up the tent. By the time the blanket was spread out and its corners were secured, Wyatt had stripped down to her bathing suit. She tilted her head and gave Logan her sweetest smile. "Daddy 'wimming?" When he hesitated, she added, "Pease."

He nodded. "Okay, but wait for me."

"Logan," Veronica warned. "It's too cold for—"

"Don't worry." He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his jeans. "She'll want out the minute she feels the water."

"Have you actually _met_ our daughter? She's the tiny, stubborn one; rules our house and likes to get her way."

"Really? I thought that was you." Without waiting for her reply, he scooped up Wyatt and jogged down to the shoreline. He started to swing her out over the ocean like he was going to throw her in and she squealed with delight. Putting her down next to him, they inched closer to the water. When the first icy wave broke over their legs, Wyatt ran halfway back to the blanket and Logan gave chase. Veronica lay on her side to watch them play; running up and down the beach while darting in and out of the water.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the sky. Whatever Mac and Lisa found was at Kane Software, which meant that's where she needed to be and that required making nice with Duncan. Veronica sighed. Playing nice and spending time with Duncan were the reasons she didn't want to take this case, but now she had no choice. If she'd just taken it in the first place…_then it could be you lying in a coma or possibly dead, Veronica. _Turning her head, her eyes found Wyatt. She was squatting in the sand next to Logan and they were looking at something Veronica couldn't see.

Whoever orchestrated the crash would be feeling pretty safe right now, but how long would that sense of security last if she immediately took over Lisa's job shredding paper? _Would they come after me next?_ It was possible.

An image of Laurel popped into her head; lonely and sad, without any memories of her mother. Tears pricked her eyes. Meg missed it all. She didn't get to see her daughter grow. There were no first steps and first words and she wouldn't be there for the first date and graduation and…_everything_.

Logan and Wyatt were walking toward the blanket. Veronica wiped her face and forced a smile. "Come here sweet pea, let me warm you up." She wrapped her in a towel and snuggled her close. "What did you and Daddy find?"

"A mitt cwab."

Veronica guessed, "A hermit crab?"

Wyatt nodded and slid off her lap. "Bocks now."

Logan knelt on the blanket. "Let's put your clothes on first." He put on her tee shirt and helped her into her leggings. Then he dusted the sand off her feet and kissed her toes before putting her Keds back on. He set her up at the edge of the blanket with her toys and it didn't take long for all the blocks to be scattered in the sand. "We may lose a few," Logan said as he dropped down next to Veronica.

She gave him a distracted _mmm hmm_ and hugged her knees. Wyatt was digging holes and dropping her blocks into them one at a time. _Definitely going to lose a few_. "So, what did you and Dick talk about last night?"

When no answer was forthcoming, she turned her head to look at him. _Intense focus_. She could see why he made a good pilot; his natural grace, the attention to detail, the ability to analyze and evaluate any situation. But he wasn't studying a plane's instrument panel, he was studying _her _and Veronica didn't like the scrutiny. She turned away and went back to watching Wyatt.

"I told Dick to hire guards for Mac's room."

She opened her mouth to ask _why_ and promptly closed it. If the motive behind the accident was to make sure that whatever Mac and Lisa learned remain a secret, the job wasn't done. It was something she should've considered. "Do you really think they'll try again?"

"Why take that chance?"

Veronica offered him a tender _I-love-you_ smile and then demonstrated the sentiment by touching his cheek and giving him a soft kiss. _Grateful for Logan's overprotective streak- who woulda thunk it?_ "Thank you."

He waved away her words, "It's Mac."

She rested her head on his arm. "Feel like calling Duncan for me and asking him to bring Laurel for dinner tonight?"

"No…but I will." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Veronica—"

"We need to stop at the office before going home and we should probably pick up something for dinner, Thai? …mmm, cream cheese wontons and Tom Yum soup."

His sigh said he knew she was avoiding… There were so many things she didn't want to talk about right now; the list was too long to enumerate. He opted for the one topic they never dodged- Wyatt. "A bad dream woke her up this morning."

_Like mother, like daughter_. "Did she tell you about it?"

"Only that we, you and I, went bye-bye and she was sad."

Their daughter could do guilt-trips better than a Jewish mother. She looked perfectly happy now; driving her yellow dump truck over a mound of sand and making _vroom vroom_ noises. "She missed us yesterday."

He hesitated. "Probably." It was her turn to study him, but he was giving nothing away. His expression was enigmatic. "I'm going to go call Duncan." The words weren't even out of his mouth and he was on the move. He walked far down the beach before taking out his cell.

Wyatt was staring after him and Veronica could tell she was getting ready to bolt. _Distraction time_. "Hey sweet pea, you want to make sand angels with Mommy?" She got up and picked a spot of dry sand. "First we have to lie down on our backs."

"Okay, Mama."

She waited for Wyatt and then got down next to her. "Now we drag our arms and legs in the sand like we're doing jumping jacks." Veronica demonstrated and then turned her head to watch the baby do it. "Now we have to get up really carefully. I'll go first and then help you." Getting up carefully was a lot easier when she could do a sit-up. She stared at her baby bump. _This was not a well thought out plan_.

"Problem?" She could hear the laughter in Logan's voice.

"No."

"Okay, just checking." He held out his hands for Wyatt and lifted her from the sand. "That's a very pretty angel. Should Daddy take a picture?"

"Me do."

Logan crouched down next to her and gave her the phone. "Hit this button here." Wyatt took the picture of her sand angel and gave the phone back to him. He snapped another photo and Veronica was sure it was of her. "Ready to each lunch jellybean? Mommy made peanut butter and jelly for you." The two of them started walking back to the blanket.

"Uh, Logan?"

He glanced back with a wide grin on his face. "Yes dear?"

He was going to make her ask. _Not in this lifetime, buddy_. Rolling on her side, she ruined her angel and started to get up. "Never mind, _honey_."

"See?" Logan took her hand, helped her to her feet and then pointed at her. "Tiny, stubborn one."

Ignoring him, she headed for the blanket and the cooler. "What did Duncan say?"

"They're coming at six and Thai food is fine."

"Was that it?"

"No…he also said if we're ordering from La Basil, he wants the spicy duck curry."

Veronica frowned at him and he shrugged. It was certainly _possible_ for it to be that simple considering Duncan invented _denial_, but really, not one word about last night? She held up two sandwiches for Logan. "Roast beef or turkey?"

He took both. "What are you eating?"

The no deli meat while pregnant rule really put a damper on sandwiches. "Peanut butter and pickles." But it was fun watching his face when she ate weird food combinations. "It's really good; want one?"

"Is that good as in actually edible or good like the raw onions dipped in mustard and hot sauce?"

Veronica finished fixing a plate for Wyatt and closed the cooler so she could use it as a table. "What can I say? Matthew likes spicy foods."

He shook his head. "Shelby just has bad taste like her mommy."

She gaped at him. "Bad taste?" Tilting her head, she pretended to consider the accusation. "Well… I did marry you."

"Sorry, I meant bad taste in _food._" Logan grinned. "Your taste in husbands is impeccable."

"I'm glad you used the plural because my next spouse is going to be decidedly less—"

"Irresistible?" He kissed her before she could correct him. "My taste in _a_ wife was pretty impeccable too." Stroking his fingers down her cheek, he cupped her chin and leaned in for another kiss. "And she also tastes good."

"Look, Daddy." Simultaneously they turned their heads toward Wyatt. Once she had their attention, she squeezed her juice box until the apple juice spewed out of the tiny straw and she tried to catch it in her mouth. From the amounts of spilled liquid on her face, plate and cooler this wasn't her first squeeze.

Logan chuckled. "Nice." He gave Wyatt a high five and Veronica shook her head. There was no need to ask where she'd learned this little trick; the epitome of incorrigible behavior was sitting right next to her, all six-feet of him. He took the juice box from Wyatt. "Now eat some of your sandwich."

There was a slight pout at the loss of her juice, but she did as he asked without arguing. _I wish he'd teach me that trick_. They ate lunch while trying to come up with different things to "make" with their triangle shapes. Veronica stood the cheese wedges pointy side up, arranged them in a circle and declared it a crown. Logan took a triangle cracker said it was a cone and put one of Veronica's pickle circles on top as a scoop of pickle-flavored ice cream.

Wyatt's face scrunched in distaste. "Yuck, Daddy."

Logan uttered the words, "I bet Mommy would like it," just as Veronica was thinking that pickle-flavored ice cream sounded pretty good. His smirk said he knew he was right.

"You think you know me so well."

"I do know you…" In a heartbeat, his smile changed from smug to indecent and his hand slid up her thigh. "Intimately."

She got up on her knees and leaned in close until their mouths were almost touching. Very slowly she slid her hands up his chest and then gave him a really good shove, toppling him over into the sand. "Bet you didn't see that coming- did ya?"

Logan grabbed her hand pulling her down on top of him. "You know I like it when you play rough." He tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth and kissed her. "Now if you're done having your way with me, we should probably get going."

Reluctantly, Veronica got up and started packing their things. She didn't really want to leave the beach. Leaving the beach meant returning to the real world and facing all the things she was trying to avoid. This wasn't like her. _That's not really true, Veronica; avoidance is your modus operandi._ But normally, she avoided the _personal_ not the work. She told Logan this morning, _I can't leave this alone_, but here she was trying her best to not deal with it. It wasn't that she didn't want to figure out who did this to Mac because she did. It was just that everything felt…_fragile_. "You know I love you right?"

He stopped folding the canopy to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Jeez, can't a woman tell her husband she loves him without it being the end of the world?" She picked up Wyatt and started walking to the car. By the time she had the baby strapped into her car seat; Logan had caught up with them and was loading the stuff into the trunk. When he got in the car she reminded him that she wanted to stop by the office. "I want to get the case files."

He didn't say anything until they reached the freeway. "I need to bring Dick a change of clothes; he's been at the hospital all night."

"After we get the files you can drop us off at the house before you go."

"Don't you want to come with me?"

Veronica shook her head. "No. Wyatt needs a nap and I'm going to do some work before Duncan and Laurel show up. Just remember to pick up dinner on your way home."

"You can't…" He fell silent and took her hand. "I love you too Veronica."

They pulled up in front of the office and she slipped out of the car. She breathed a sigh of relief when the door to the suite was locked. It being a Sunday, she didn't expect anyone to be here, but part of her was afraid of running into her father. Her initial anger at him was just assigning blame in order to contain her grief and she owed him an apology. A better apology than a quick, I'm sorry and I've got to go because Logan's waiting in the car.

She clicked on the overhead lights. The case files were probably in Lisa's office, but she checked her father's desk first and found nothing about Kane Software. She started to leave and sat back down. Opening his bottom drawer, she pulled out Lisa's personnel file. Right on the front, beneath her name and date of hire, was her emergency contact information. Veronica took the file with her to Lisa's office.

If her own office was considered generic and sterile than Lisa's office would be downright inhospitable. There were no visitor's chairs, no paintings, no personal items at all. There wasn't even a plant. Sitting behind the desk, she went through the drawers first. The theme of no personal items continued in the contents of her desk. Aside from office supplies and some snack food most of the drawers were empty.

Veronica flipped through the files in the inbox. The thick file with the background checks from Clarence was at the top of the pile. There were also separate files on Kane Software, Microtech, Duncan and both James and Mai Soong. She'd obviously taken Veronica's advice to have Mac do a more thorough check on the Soongs. Of the remaining files, two were unlabeled and the last one was the trophy wife divorce case, which she'd turned over to Veronica and yet here it was back on her desk.

She added Lisa's personnel file to the pile and scooped up the entire stack. She'd already left Logan and Wyatt waiting too long; she would just have to read through the files at home.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

After Logan dropped them off, she gave Wyatt a bath to wash off the beach and the apple juice. It was only supposed to be a quick rinse before naptime, but Wyatt was moving at her extra slow setting to avoid bed. She didn't want to sleep in her room and she wouldn't lie down. Every time she would start to drift off and Veronica got up, her eyes would snap open. _Mama stay_. Veronica finally relented and let her nap in the _big bed_ with Mommy, but it still took two stories and a lullaby before she was completely asleep.

She carried her back to her bed, put the nightlight on and left the door open. The case files were on the dining room table. Veronica spread them out and called her dad. "Guess who?"

"My obstinate and headstrong daughter?"

"I don't know who that is, but _this_ is the daughter you love unconditionally and who, on the rare occasion she's wrong, you forgive immediately."

He chuckled. "Rare occasion?"

"Like Halley's Comet." _If only that were really true_. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I know it wasn't your fault. I was just…" She sighed. "Have you been to the hospital today?"

"I'm here now with Logan and Wallace. We're in the cafeteria getting everyone coffee." _Everyone except me_. He didn't say it, but she knew he was wondering and his next words confirmed it. "Do you want me to come watch Wyatt?"

"No, but thanks for the offer. Duncan and Laurel are coming for dinner and I want to go through the case file before they get here. Any word on Mac?"

"They woke her up this morning to check her reflexes and ask her some questions. Her ICP…" He sounded unsure and there was a long pause. Veronica assumed he was seeking confirmation from someone because when he resumed talking it was with more confidence. "Her ICP numbers look good, which means the pressure is decreasing."

Veronica couldn't control the hopefulness in her tone. "So she's awake?"

"No, they put her back under after the exam. The doctor said this is standard protocol; waking her up every morning during rounds to assess her…progress." The slight hesitation before the word progress spoke volumes. They weren't only checking for improvement, they were checking for damage.

"Did they say how long they're going to keep her in the coma?" As she asked the question, Veronica opened her laptop and typed _medically induced coma_ into Google. The words, _patient receives a controlled dose of an anesthetic, typically propofol_, were immediately followed by, _you do it for someone who is really ill when other options are diminishing_. She closed the search.

"The doctor seems very optimistic that it won't be for long." _It was already too long_. When she didn't say anything, he asked. "Are you okay honey?"

Instead of answering him, she asked her own question. "Have you called Lisa's family yet?"

"I tried. I went to their house twice; last night on my way home and again this morning. Both times, nobody was there. I finally left a message for her brother asking him to call me."

Veronica pulled the personnel file closer. The name Scott Watson and his phone number in Seattle were listed right beneath the address and phone number for her parents. Even now, the memory of her call to Piz's parents was still vivid enough for her to know she wasn't making the same call to Lisa's brother. "What did Lisa tell you about the case? Was she making any progress?"

"Whatever she found is in the files, but it's not much. She didn't think Karen was involved in the theft and none of the other people working on the project set off any alarm bells. She was digging through the financials for Kane Software and she was going to look into Charles Shepherd next."

"Okay, I'll start there."

She started flipping through the files and her fingers stilled at her father's next sentence. "Veronica, I was talking to Logan and—" Someone interrupted him. _Probably Logan_. It was never a good idea when her father and her husband started talking about her. It almost made her wish for the good old days when they didn't get along. "He said he'll discuss it with you when he gets home."

_Of course he will_. "Great, looking forward to it." She found the file labeled Kane Software and the information on Charles Shepherd. "I need to go before the baby wakes up."

"Call me if you need me."

Veronica had a feeling she would be calling him right after her conversation with Logan. "I will Dad." She hung up before he could say anything more.

The file on Kane Software contained their annual report for last year, which was comprised of their financials, management analysis, corporate information, and an auditors report. There was also a detailed narrative that explained the company's activities for the year and a copy of the letter to the shareholders. Veronica skimmed through the information. The profit and loss statement showed heavy losses in all four quarters and Lisa had scribbled a note in the margin: _public lost faith in company after Jake's death_.

Despite the bleak numbers, the letter to the shareholders sounded upbeat and positive. It glossed over the drop in revenues by concentrating on their lower operating costs. Lisa underlined the sentence and wrote the word _layoffs_ next to it. There was an entire paragraph devoted to the acquisition of both an interactive online gaming company and a company that developed apps. Again Lisa made a comment on the paragraph: _Kane Software hasn't developed a new product in a long time_.

The end of the letter extolled the virtues of their research and development team, mentioned technological innovation as the foundation of the company and said that they were committed to smart, long-term investments in new products. It outlined their plan to expand into cloud computing and hinted at the development of Smartpaper without actually naming the product or giving away too much information. Lisa's final thought was: _all available resources have been devoted to this project_.

Veronica returned the pages to the file. Lost faith, falling revenues, layoffs, and no new products sounded like the death knell for Kane Software. The company was limping along and counting on Smartpaper to turn its fortunes around. Given Jake's slow deterioration after Lilly's death, it was no surprise that his company was experiencing the same decline.

She picked up the background check on Charles Shepherd. His resume was impressive. Not only did he hold simultaneous degrees in business and engineering from MIT, he was also the recipient of the National Medal of Technology award. Right out of college he started working for one of the top names in the software industry and eventually left them to start his own company, which focused on creating accounting and business programs.

When his company was acquired by Kane Software he came on board as the chief operating officer and then took over as chief executive officer when Jake died. His displacement as CEO by Duncan would've been a bitter pill to swallow and might give him a personal motive for wanting to steal the project especially since Smartpaper was Duncan's baby.

Veronica moved on to his financials. There was nothing strange on his tax returns or in his banking. He made a nice six figure salary and owned a luxury home in the prestigious 90909 zip code. Twice married; his first wife lived with their two children, a boy and a girl, in Newport Beach and his second wife was a former model. Veronica rolled her eyes. _He's a walking cliché_. She let out a low whistle at the amount of his monthly child support and alimony payments. _Maybe he needs the money from Microtech to keep his ex in her fancy home and designer clothes_.

The credit report showed a lot of revolving debt, but nothing he couldn't afford to pay with his salary. He didn't have a criminal record. There were no bankruptcies, liens or judgments against him. No wants or warrants either. He owned stock in Kane Software and held a seat on the board as part of his employment package.

Veronica tossed the pages back on the table. Hers were the fifth set of eyes to go over this information and none of it was useful. Nobody had missed anything or left some clue undiscovered. It was frustrating. As background checks went, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't at the same level as Mac's work. There were no phone records, credit card statements, or emails. It was all very _ordinary_.

Unless she planned on taking a crash course in computer hacking, Veronica was going to need someone to fill in for Mac until she was out of the hospital. She could ask Clarence to lend her one of his employees or she could put an ad in the paper. She smirked. _Wanted computer expert for illegal activities_.

"You look like someone kicked your puppy." Logan was leaning in the doorway.

She laid her head on the table and groused, "We don't have a puppy."

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. "Yet." Veronica gave him a baleful stare. "You know it's what she wants," he coaxed.

"So? She also wants to paint with toothpaste, pull all the toilet paper off the roll and make it snow with Mommy's flour."

"Good times." He grinned at the memory of Wyatt doing all three of those things _on the same day_. "Speaking of our little hellion, where is she?"

"Still napping."

Dropping a hand on the nape of her neck, he gently started to rub. "How's it going?"

"Mmm," she closed her eyes enjoying the massage. "What's the term? A goat rope?"

Logan chuckled, "I love when you try to play Navy." He kissed the back of her neck. "Embrace the suck, Veronica."

_This entire thing sucked_. "Were you able to see Mac?"

His expression grew serious and he shook his head before taking the seat next to her. "Still immediate family only." His fingers curled around the arm of the chair and his thumb started tapping. "Your dad…" The words trailed off and he frowned.

"You might as well just spit it out because I'm sure I'm not going to like it, no matter how you phrase it."

"He suggested moving in here with Dottie while you're working this case. Varying routines, extra eyes on Wyatt and he wants to make sure you're carrying your gun."

Her first impulse was to argue; _oh, I didn't realize guns now stop car accidents_. "I don't know Logan," she paused. "How do you feel about it?"

"I'd like to wrap you in Kevlar and make you drive a tank."

Veronica smiled. "Could we make out in my tank?"

"Are you trying to distract me with thoughts of you naked?"

"Depends." She left her chair and straddled his lap. "Is it working?"

"A little bit." His somber brown eyes belied the teasing tone. One of his hands slid down her spine, pulling her closer, while the other hand brushed back her hair. The conversation with her dad had clearly rattled him and his worry was obvious. "It's something to think about."

Veronica went for the joke. "Me naked?"

"That's utmost on my mind, always." He kissed her nose. "But seriously folks. Extra precautions? Not necessarily a bad thing, right?"

"Four armed adults with tempers and attitudes living under one roof with a toddler? That sounds like a bad sitcom." She got off his lap. "Full House sponsored by the NRA."

Logan's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to respond and then promptly closed it; his lips thinning into a narrow line. His chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took. "Can we compromise?"

"History says no." She busied herself with organizing the files and clearing off the table. "No houseguests, but I'll carry my gun." Veronica picked up the stack of papers. "And we don't have any routines; unless you count our comedy shtick."

He arched an eyebrow and waggled an imaginary cigar. "Say goodnight, Gracie."

Veronica shook her head. "I'm Burns, _you're_ Allen."

"I've got a ciga—"

"Don't even finish that." She carried the files from the dining room to her office. They'd finally turned the spare room into her office just in time for it to become a nursery. Logan insisted that they leave it alone and get rid of the guest room instead; _it's not like we ever have overnight company_. She, on the other hand, thought they needed it for late-night babysitters or when Trina came to visit. _Then again, if Dad insists on playing My Bodyguard every time I work a case- goodbye, guest room_.

Veronica put the pile on her desk and turned to the closet. The shoebox of pictures was hidden away on the top shelf. She pushed at the box with her fingertips trying to get it close to the edge.

"Need help?"

"If you don't stop sneaking up on me, I'm going to make you wear a bell."

Logan took down the box, but instead of handing it to her, he opened the lid. "A little trip down memory lane?" He lifted out one of the pictures and held it up for her. _Of course it had to be one of me and Duncan_. It was from the spring dance, freshman year.

"I really did wear a lot of pink." She plucked it from his fingers, put it back in the box and took the entire thing from him. "I promised Laurel pictures of Meg."

"Mama?" Wyatt's soft question was both tentative and anxious.

"You go get her and I'll…" Logan sandwiched the shoebox between his palms. "Take this."

She hesitated until another "_Mama"_ came from their daughter's room; this one was slightly louder and more impatient. Leaving Logan alone with the pictures, she went to get Wyatt. "Hey sleepy girl, how was your nap?" The baby nodded at her and yawned. Veronica picked her up and sat in the rocking chair to snuggle. "You were sleeping for a long time; Mommy missed you."

Wyatt rested her head on Veronica's shoulder and let out another loud yawn. "Where Daddy?"

"He's inside. Do you want to get dressed and go find him?"

"Okay."

Veronica changed her diaper and put her in a new pair of black leggings with a black and white striped shirt. "Do you want socks or your bunny slippers?"

"Tutu."

Biting her tongue, Veronica got the bag of tutus from the back of the closet, let Wyatt pick out which color she wanted and helped her into it. Then she put matching purple socks on her feet. "All set; let's go find Daddy."

They found him in the living room pouring through the pictures. He'd created piles of photos on the coffee table. Upon spotting him, Wyatt ran across the room. She launched herself at his lap and he caught her before she landed, sending the shoebox toppling to the floor. "Somebody's happy to see me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "P'ay time."

"What do you want to play?"

"Boat."

He stood with her. "If you need us, we'll be playing boat."

Veronica watched them walk down the hall. In less than five minutes, their bedroom would be a complete disaster; blankets in disarray and pillows tossed "overboard" as lifeboats. She suspected that Wyatt only liked to play this game because she liked jumping from the bed to the pillows trying to avoid the "water" that was their carpet.

Picking up the shoebox and scattered pictures, she started to flip through them creating her own piles. She'd almost reached the bottom of the box when the doorbell rang. _Showtime_.

"We come bearing ice cream." Duncan held up the bag. "Vanilla, Mexican Hot Chocolate, and Salted Caramel. No waffles though."

Veronica offered him a slight smile and took the proffered bag. "Thanks," she murmured. "Come on in." She took a step back. "I was just going through some pictures."

When she mentioned the pictures, Laurel's face lit up. "Did you find some of my mom?"

Nodding, Veronica closed the door behind them. "There were more than I thought. I even have one of your mom and dad at the Total Eclipse of the Heart dance."

Surprise flickered across Duncan's face. He turned to his daughter. "It was our first date; I was Duckie and she was Andie." Laurel just stared at him. "From Pretty in Pink? It was an eighties dance."

She gave him a half-shrug. "Sure."

"They're on the table." Veronica pointed. "I'm going to put this in the freezer." _And get Logan_. She waited until Duncan and Laurel were settled on the couch and then disappeared; first into the kitchen and then to get Logan and Wyatt.

The blankets were spread out on the floor with the pillows tossed on them. Their top sheet was folded like a triangle and tied from the ceiling light fixture to the headboard like a sail. Wyatt's magnetic fish were strewn all over the place and the two of them were sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, fishing poles in hand, trying to catch them.

When Wyatt spotted her, she grinned. "Me fish."

"I see that; have you caught enough for dinner?"

She looked at the toy fish and back to Veronica. "No, Mama." Her confused tone made Logan smile.

"Mommy means pretend eat like when Daddy eats your toes." To demonstrate, he pushed her down on the mattress, picked up her foot and nibbled her toes making _num, num, num_ noises. She giggled.

"Duncan's here."

"And you need rescuing already?"

"Rescue? Please," she scoffed. "I can handle Duncan in my sleep. I just wanted your company."

"Sure you did." He got up and held his arms out for the baby. "Come on Wy, let's go keep Mommy company."

"No. Me fish."

Logan let his arms fall to his side and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. It was his equivalent to a Daddy time-out while he thought about how to handle the situation. "We need to go eat dinner now and maybe after, Laurel will come in here and fish with you."

The mention of Laurel piqued her interest, but she didn't move. "No."

"I got you sticky rice." It was a good incentive; Wyatt loved eating sticky rice with her fingers. She slid off the bed and skipped out of the room. He sighed. "When does the no stage end?"

"Uh, never." Veronica grinned. "How many did you say you wanted again? Five, was it?"

"As if that was ever going to happen."

"Hey, I was considering it."

"Liar." He grabbed her hand for their walk down the hall. "Ready for dinner?" Logan asked as they entered the room.

Wyatt was kneeling on the floor next to Laurel looking at the pictures. Duncan held up a photo. "Do you remember this?"

Logan went to take it from him for a closer look and Veronica went to the kitchen. She didn't want to spend an evening reminiscing. She wanted to get through dinner as quick as possible, make plans to start working at Kane Software, and then politely kick Duncan out of the house. The bags from LaBasil were on the table. She put the first round of containers in the microwave to reheat. Grabbing dishes and silverware, she brought them to the dining room and set the table.

She caught snippets of their conversation on her trips to and from the dining room. _Veronica was so mad_, this from Duncan. Logan's response, _you dared me to do it_.

Veronica paused mid-stride. "Dared you to do what?"

Logan glanced over his shoulder. "Throw you in the pool after Winter Formal."

It wasn't something she was likely to forget. The heater on the pool was broken, the water was freezing and she was wearing that _thin_ white dress Lilly insisted upon. Veronica frowned, but all she said was, "Dinner's ready."

They traipsed into the dining room and took their seats around the table. Logan helped Wyatt into her booster, cut up her grilled chicken and gave her the promised sticky rice.

Veronica took the seat next to Laurel. "How's school?"

"It's okay." _And the laconic junior miss was back_.

With her first bite of food, Veronica realized how hungry she was and she no longer cared if Laurel felt like chatting or that Logan was smirking at how fast she was putting away the Pad Thai.

"You might want to save some for the rest of us."

She stole a wonton from his plate and popped it in her mouth. "You might want to hush up or you'll be doing the dishes- _alone_."

Silence settled over the table and Veronica felt no need to fill it. She didn't want to talk about the case in front of the children and she didn't want to talk about anything else, period.

"I was surprised when Logan called with a dinner invitation."

She paused in her eating and gave Duncan a pointed look. "I promised Laurel pictures of Meg."

Duncan nodded like he understood her look, but then proceeded with the conversation. "After the hospital, I wasn't sure I'd be seeing you."

"I was upset." _There, that's as close to an apology as you're getting_. "Mac's doing better." _Thanks for asking_.

"That's good. Is she awake?"

"They woke her up this morning." Veronica chose to leave off the part about them putting her back under as she gauged Duncan's reaction. His features remained relaxed; no worry or alarm at the news that Mac was awake. Logan was staring at her. She turned her head and smiled at him.

"Does that mean I'll be able to visit soon?"

Logan gave her a _let's-see-how-you-get-out-of-this-one_ smirk. Veronica shook her head. _Oh, ye of little faith_. "No, her visitors are restricted." It wasn't a lie and once they were allowing people other than family, Veronica would make sure security kept Duncan off the approved visitor list.

"You know, I understand if you don't want to work the case anymore." Logan's jaw dropped and he stared at Duncan in stunned amazement. Noticing his reaction, Duncan asked, "What?"

"This is _Veronica_. It's like you don't know her at all."

"Her friend was almost kill—"

She cut him off before he could finish the word. "Does anybody want the last spring roll?" Everyone declined and she took it for herself. "After dinner Laurel, maybe you can watch a movie with Wyatt?" It was the best she had to offer. There wasn't anything else in the house of entertainment value to a twelve-year-old. _Not that she's going to enjoy Winnie-the-Pooh_.

Wyatt frowned. "Boat."

"I don't think Laurel wants to play boat sweet pea."

Laurel shrugged, "I'll play boat."

That was enough for Wyatt to be done with dinner. "Down."

Veronica glanced at her plate; she'd eaten more than half of her chicken and most of the rice. "You have to wait for Laurel."

"I'm done." She stood and waited for Logan to free Wyatt from her booster chair. Picking up her plate, she looked at Veronica. "Where do you want me to put this?"

"Just leave it; I'll get it." Once the kids left the room, she turned to Duncan. "I want to come work at Kane Software, take Lisa's place shredding paper."

He frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Logan paused, his hand hovering over the plate of wontons. He lowered his arm and turned to Veronica awaiting her reply. _He thinks I'm going to lose my temper_. "I need access to the people on the project."

"I'm not comfortable with that. Somebody killed Lisa and almost succeeded in killing Mac. Having you come work there is like painting a target on your back." He shook his head. "I won't do it."

Logan turned away, but not before Veronica caught the look of relief that crossed his face. She directed her comment to both of them. "I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."

"I won't allow it." Duncan's statement made Logan tense and Veronica wasn't sure if his reaction was because he knew it would make her angry or if he was pissed that another man was trying to tell his wife what she could do. _Probably both_.

"It will be fine; _I'll_ be fine. I'm just going to get a feel for the project and the group dynamic, ask a few questions. They won't even realize I'm there." From Duncan's stony expression, she could tell he remained unconvinced. "I have a lot more experience at this than Lisa did."

"What if there was another way?"

When he didn't elaborate, Veronica snapped. "Well, are you going to share your plan or did you want me to guess?"

"You could pretend to be my girlfriend."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

If there were stages to anger, Logan was cycling through them at a rapid clip. He'd moved beyond tense to extreme agitation. Before he could get to the explosion, Veronica spoke up. "Uh, married." She waved her wedding and engagement rings at Duncan. "And pregnant."

"I've been giving this a lot of thought."

_I bet you have_. Veronica glanced at Logan. His hands were curled into fists and the muscles in his cheek were throbbing in time with the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Unaware of the potentially dangerous situation, Duncan kept talking.

"If you took over for Lisa, the only person you'd be spending any time with is Karen and Lisa told me on Friday she didn't think Karen was involved."

_That was true_. It was the reason her dad and Lisa both felt that Mac needed to be involved- to get close to the other people on the project.

"Plus you coming to work there right after Lisa was killed would be…" He searched for the right word and chose, "Suspicious. These are very smart people Veronica. It's not going to take them long to figure out who you are and see you as a threat."

If she wasn't so annoyed, she would have to commend him on his reasoning; Duncan had accurately pegged what she'd been worried about all day. It was why her father wanted to move in here and why Logan wanted to wrap her in Kevlar and buy a tank.

"Veronica, I, uh…care about you; I don't want to see you hurt, or worse, because of this, because of me."

When he stumbled over the word _care_, Logan's lips curled in a contemptuous sneer and Veronica knew what he was thinking- that '_care about'_ wasn't what Duncan wanted to say. "I still don't see how my pretending to be your girlfriend is going to help."

"You can come and go as you please at Kane Software under the guise of visiting me. When you ask questions, they'll think it's just your interest in my work. You'll have access to all the employees." The way he ticked off the answers made it seem like he was reading from a prepared list. "And, the party Celeste threw last night? It was sort of a meet-and-greet; a way to introduce the Smartpaper engineers to some key stockholders and future investors. Since it was…since it ended early, she can throw another one and I can introduce you."

"As your girlfriend." Logan's head spun around and he gaped at her. Veronica offered him a tender smile and gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze, but he only snapped his jaw closed and turned away. Frowning, she looked at Duncan. "You said yourself these are smart people, how are they going to believe we're dating? It's not like I can hide the fact that I'm pregnant."

Her baby bump appeared a lot sooner this time around than it did with Wyatt; Dr. Villella said it was because the muscles were more flexible and not as firm. She was already wearing maternity clothes for comfort, but…Veronica glanced at her stomach- _maybe if I wear a body shaper and layer my clothes? _

"My deal with the authorities, it took a long time to hammer out the details." Duncan shifted in his chair and scratched the back of his neck. "My whereabouts for the past year haven't exactly been a secret."

Veronica's gaze narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

"Both Celeste and Lizzie came to visit us in Hong Kong." He averted his gaze and rubbed his forehead. "You could've come too."

"What the fuck?" Logan abruptly stood, knocking over his chair. "First you want my _wife_ to pretend to be your girlfriend and now…_now_ you want people to think _my_ baby is yours?"

Duncan started to rise out of his chair. "Maybe you should check your ego; this isn't about you. This is about keeping Veronica safe. Shouldn't that be your top priority?"

"Don't fucking tell me about priorities. This is _my_ family we're talking about and I don't give a shit about your project. The only reason Veronica is investigating is because of Mac, not _you_." Logan was advancing on Duncan as he spoke.

Veronica got up. "Why don't we calm down and discuss—"

Logan twisted his body around to face her. "Are you actually considering this bullshit?"

"I think we need to take a step back and look at the big picture."

"Oh I can see the big picture; it's abso-_fuckin'_-lutely crystal clear." When she didn't respond, he tossed his hands in the air. "Fine. Whatever. Do what you want."

The '_you always do'_ remained unsaid, but Veronica heard it and it made her mad. That was the old her. This was not how they handled things now. Her eyes met his; beneath the anger, she could see…_fear_. "Logan." It was a soft and gentle reminder that they weren't the ones fighting and that she loved _him_.

He backed away from Duncan and righted his chair. "I need some air."

Veronica watched him stalk out of the room. The not-so-quiet thud of the back door signaled his departure from the house.

"I'm sorry Veronica. I didn't realize he'd get so mad."

"Really Duncan?" She chastised. "You thought you could suggest telling people that I cheated on him and was having a baby with you and he wouldn't get mad? Did you expect him to pat you on the back and say hey that's a great plan?"

He dropped into his chair. "I didn't think about it that way. Honestly, I was just thinking about you and your safety."

"I'm _his_ wife, not yours and, frankly, I don't need either of you making decisions for me and telling me what to do, but if anyone has the right to be worried about me- it's Logan."

Duncan nodded. "I should go apologize to him."

"That's not a good idea." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Just give him some time to cool off." If he went outside now, his chances of remaining in one piece were not good.

There was a stretch of awkward silence while he thought about her advice. "You know, the hardest part of being on the run was missing the people: my family, friends, you and Logan. I've only been back two weeks and I feel like I'm messing it all up. It's hard for me; I didn't think things would be exactly the same as when I left, but…" He shook his head. "Maybe I did just expect to come back and pick up my old life like nothing changed."

_Did that include us?_ Veronica started clearing the table. "Maybe we should skip dessert."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we didn't mention the ice cream in front of Wyatt, huh?" The attempt at humor did little to relieve the tension in the room. He got up to help her clean. "Just forget my plan. I don't want it to ruin my friendship with Logan." A wry smile twisted his mouth. "Well, anymore than it already has."

"I think…" There were parts of his plan that would definitely work. A party would be a good place to meet everyone while they were relaxed and off-guard. Plus unfettered access to Kane Software would allow her to monitor all the employees, not just those involved with Smartpaper. _Am I really thinking about doing this?_ "Let me talk to Logan and we'll work something out."

Duncan started to load the dishwasher. "We've been friends since we were five. I'm glad he's happy Veronica and I don't want to ruin it."

She frowned. _Was he talking about the friendship or Logan's happiness?_ She finished storing the leftovers in the fridge. "Logan is pretty forgiving." Another gross understatement. For all the hurt he'd suffered, he still had a generous heart and an overwhelming capacity for forgiveness. Their marriage was proof of that. He'd forgiven her and taken her back so many times; taking a chance and opening himself up to the potential of _unbearable pain later_ all just to be with her.

"He told me he didn't care; on the phone this afternoon, he told me he didn't care about Aaron. Detergent?"

The non-sequitur threw her for a minute. "Under the sink."

After filling the dispenser, he returned the detergent to the cabinet and started the dishwasher. "How did you know?"

"I found the wire transfer you sent to Clarence."

"It's not really proof." He hedged.

"No, it isn't." If he was looking for more of an assurance from her, he wasn't going to get it. "I should check on Wyatt and go talk to Logan."

"I'll come get Laurel."

Veronica started down the hall and stopped. "Why was Lauren Sinclair at the hospital with you?"

"I told you the Sinclairs would be at my mom's party." That wasn't really an answer. She put her hands on her hips and waited for more. Duncan shrugged. "When the Sheriff told us about the accident, Lauren insisted on coming with me. She didn't say why and I didn't ask. I assumed she knew Mac."

Satisfied with his answer, she continued down the hall to the bedroom. The girls had given up on playing boat and they were sprawled across the bed watching _Peter Pan_. Wyatt was on her side in front of Laurel, head on a pillow and thumb in her mouth. Her eyes were half-closed and she'd probably fall asleep soon if Veronica left her alone.

Seeing that the baby was almost asleep, Duncan put his finger against his lips and motioned for Laurel to join him. Reluctantly, she slid off the bed and followed them from the room. Veronica waited until they reached the front door before speaking. "Thanks for playing with Wyatt."

Laurel shrugged. "We mostly watched the movie."

Duncan paused with his hand on the knob. "Call me after you talk to Logan and let me know what you want to do."

As he opened the door, Veronica remembered the photos. "Wait, don't forget your pictures." She crossed to the coffee table and found the pile she'd created for Laurel. Not only had she given her all the ones of Meg, she'd included any solitary photo of Duncan and tossed in a few of Lilly.

"I can really keep them?" Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Of course you can." Laurel gave her a quick hug and bounded out of the house before Veronica could say anything else. If it was hard for Duncan, she couldn't imagine how it was for Laurel. All those years of not getting too close to anyone for fear that they would discover your secret. Moving from place to place and always being the new kid.

Duncan was staring after his daughter. When he turned back, he looked sad. "Thanks for that. She's…lonely and she was really excited about coming here tonight. She likes you and Logan and Wyatt."

Veronica felt bad about cutting the evening short. "Maybe one night this week she can come back? Eat that ice cream?"

"Just let me know when."

"I will." She closed the door behind them and went to the yard in search of her husband. The pool lights were on and steam was rising from the heated water, but there was no sign of him. "Logan?" Moving closer to the pool, she found his clothes in a pile on a nearby chair. His head broke the surface of the water, but before she could say anything he went back under.

She circled the pool to stand at the edge where he would come up for air and watched him swim his underwater laps. _It's definitely a great view._ Kicking off her shoes, she sat down and dangled her feet in the water. He surfaced almost immediately, a few feet short of where she sat. "Where's Wyatt?"

"Asleep on our bed."

He wiped the water from his face. "Are they gone?"

"They just left." He swam to the other side of the pool, put his hands on the edge and hoisted himself out of the water. Forgetting his clothes, he started walking toward the house and away from her. "Where are you going?"

"Inside."

_Guess the swim didn't help him cool down at all_. Veronica gathered his clothes, picked up her shoes and followed him into the house. "Are we not speaking to each other?"

"I think what we're doing now is considered speaking."

"Really? Because it feels like fighting."

He just shook his head and continued moving. Veronica let him go. No sleep last night coupled with a long day, topped off with a dose of Duncan and she was too tired to fight with Logan. She lay on the sofa and closed her eyes. She felt wretched. Her eyes were dry and gritty, her feet hurt and her back was aching. _And I want ice cream_. The fluttering in her tummy told her the baby agreed- it was ice cream time, but she didn't want to move.

"Are you okay?"

_I don't want to move and I don't want to open my eyes either_. "I'm fine." She slowly opened one eye. Logan was standing over her, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts with a towel draped around his neck. She swung her legs off the sofa, put her hand on the cushion and started to push herself upright.

"What do you want? I'll get it."

"The Mexican Hot Chocolate ice cream."

He smirked. "Do you want it in a bowl or should I just bring the carton and a spoon?"

"What do you think?"

"Carton and a spoon it is." It didn't take him long to return with the ice cream. He handed it to her, pushed the coffee table out of the way and moved the ottoman over for her legs. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"It's not like you to turn down a good fight." He lifted her legs, sat on the ottoman and put her feet in his lap. Veronica wiggled her toes at him. "Is that a hint?"

"Too subtle?" He started massaging her feet. "God that feels good. You are the best husband ever."

Logan arched an eyebrow. "I think we should go to the emergency room or at the very least I should check you for a fever." She stuck her tongue out at him. "What? Fever causes delirium."

"I'm not delirious." Veronica sucked the ice cream off her spoon. "Are you done being mad at me?"

"No. I get ice cream and give foot rubs to everyone I'm mad at."

"That must take up a lot of time in your day."

He nodded. "It can be a real hassle scheduling them all in, but I make it work." He moved to the next foot and dropped his gaze. "What did you and Duncan decide to do?"

She jabbed his stomach with her toes. "You're an idiot."

"Wow I love you too honeybunch."

"Duncan and I didn't decide anything. In case you've forgotten, I'm married to you. That makes you my decision-making partner. And, if it makes you feel any better, Duncan said we should forget his plan." Veronica took another mouthful of ice cream.

"So you're not going to do it?"

"I don't know." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I've been thinking about it all day or trying not to think about it. No unnecessary risks, that's what we said."

"I wanted to put it in our wedding vows." He was only half-joking.

"Duncan was right; taking over Lisa's job would be a big risk for no reason. I'm not going to learn anything more than she did, which was nothing."

"Nothing didn't get her killed."

Veronica shook her head. "It's more likely that _Mac_ learned something or saw something." Logan removed her feet from his lap and stood. Her eyes popped open. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not okay with this. I don't trust Duncan when it comes to you." He dragged a hand through his hair. "I need you to not do this."

"Can you just sit down and talk to me?"

He dropped into the chair next to her, but he didn't look happy about staying. "Go ahead explain to me how this is a great idea."

"I think it's a shitty idea and I don't want to do it." Both of his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I wouldn't be able to stay here with you and Wyatt, I'd have to tell everyone I cheated on my husband, and," she gave an exaggerated shudder. "I'd have to pretend to be dating Duncan."

Logan smiled. "Then why all the hemming and hawing."

"First, I don't hem and haw, I carefully consider and weigh all my options and second, there are parts of his plan that sound good." She scraped the container for the last spoonful of ice cream before putting it on the coffee table. Logan eyed the empty carton, but he wisely kept all comments to himself.

"Which parts? Because I hated the entire thing." He left his chair and joined her on the sofa. Dropping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her closer and kissed her temple. "Well except for the bit about keeping Veronica safe, that I loved."

"Shocker." She rested her head on his arm. "Access to Kane Software would be helpful and that party sounds promising."

"You actually _want_ to go to a party thrown by Celeste Kane? Definitely delirious."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "I could pretend to be someone else? Wig, makeup and," she affected an English accent. "I could speak like a right proper Brit."

"You're good, but not that good. Anyone who knows you, like the Sinclairs, would see right through a disguise." Logan splayed his hand across her belly. "And even if you were pretending to be someone else, there's still Duncan."

"And you don't trust him with me."

"Hell no. This is the guy who went to your job every day for three months straight and sat there for hours in his effort to win you back. It didn't matter that we were dating; just like it doesn't matter to him that we're married."

"It wasn't every day and he wasn't trying to _win me back_. I'm not a prize in a contest." He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her head back. Leaning in close, he studied first one side of her face, turned her head and inspected the other side. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the Duncan-sized blind spot you still seem to have."

She pulled her chin out of his hand. "You're not funny you know."

"I'm not laughing Veronica." Logan popped off the sofa like he was on a spring and then started pacing. "When you thought he killed Lilly, did you go to the cops and turn him in? No. When he kept Meg's pregnancy a secret from you, did you break up with him? No. When you thought he might have slept with Kendall, did you install a tracker on his car or bug his room? No." He stopped moving. "I can keep going if you haven't seen the pattern yet."

It wasn't difficult to spot his _let's compare your treatment of Duncan to your treatment of me_ pattern. "That was a long time ago."

"Yet you believe his plan is him trying to be helpful." He shook his head. "He's the one who suggested you work undercover at Kane Software in the first place. It's The Hut only in reverse- this time he gets you to spend every day at _his_ job. How many other clients tell you how to run an investigation?"

"Why didn't you say any of this then?"

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. "Because you turned him down."

When her father asked '_and Logan's okay with that_,' apparently the answer should have been a resounding _no_. "I love you Logan and I swear if this case wasn't about finding out who killed Lisa and put Mac in a coma, I would walk away. It's not about Duncan."


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After a yawned, '_Logan, I'm not nineteen anymore either_,' he took pity on her and tabled last night's discussion, _'you're tired; let's just go to bed and talk about this tomorrow.' _She didn't think she'd be able to sleep, but she was wrong. She'd curled against Logan's side, put her head on the pillow and… _say goodnight, Veronica_.

The smell of bacon woke her. Rolling over, she glanced at the clock. It was almost nine, which meant Logan got up with Wyatt hours ago. _Good man_. She didn't know what magic he used to keep their daughter from storming the bedroom, but her body was grateful. She felt better this morning. Indulging in a little more _me time_, she took a long, hot shower before getting dressed.

Logan's question last night_, how many other clients tell you how to run an investigation_, helped her to refocus. Not only had she willingly gone along with Duncan's plan for Lisa to work undercover, but since the accident, she kept trying to work the case from that angle. It all felt frustrating and stale because she was following in Lisa's footsteps instead of tackling the investigation her way. She needed to start fresh and the first thing she had to do was tell Duncan no.

_'I'm not okay with this…I need you to not do this.'_ It wasn't an outrageous or unreasonable request. Logan wasn't asking her to give up the investigation; he was only telling her how he felt and she needed to respect his feelings. She knew if the situation was reversed and he had to cozy up to one of his exes, she wouldn't like it. Veronica grinned. _Not like it? I'd be buying that piano wire_.

She finished dressing and left the bedroom. The magic Logan used to keep the baby from waking her was transplanting the gate from Wyatt's bedroom door to the start of the hallway. She opened the gate and peeked into the kitchen. Her two favorite people were sitting on the floor playing Roll and Play. Logan tossed the colorful plush cube across the floor, bouncing it off the kitchen cabinets. "What color is it?"

"Lellow."

"Okay, find Daddy a yellow card."

The tip of Wyatt's tongue peeked out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on shuffling through the cards to find a yellow one. She passed it to Logan. "Read, Daddy."

"It says make a happy face." He smiled at her and she gave him an answering grin.

"Me turn." She grabbed the cube with both hands and tried to mimic Logan's craps-style roll. "Gween!" She shuffled through the cards again and handed it to him.

Logan held it out for her to see. "It says we have to roar like a lion. Can you roar?" Wyatt shook her head. "Sure you can. Rawwrr!"

"Rawwrr!" She ruined her "roar" by giggling in the middle of it, but it was still pretty good. _Or maybe I'm just biased._

"That was a great roar, sweet pea."

Both heads turned toward Veronica. "Mama!" Wyatt immediately patted the floor next to her. "Come p'ay." Logan didn't look as welcoming as their daughter.

Veronica kissed the top of Wyatt's head. "I thought I smelled bacon?"

"You did, but when you decided to take a Hollywood shower, we ate it all."

"It's sexy when you speak Navy to me." She leaned over to kiss him and he offered her his cheek. _Ouch_. A good night's sleep helped clear her thoughts and made her feel better, but apparently it didn't do anything for her out-of-control hormones. Turning away before he could see the tears, she opened the fridge and buried her head inside.

"Veronica, the plate of bacon is in the microwave."

She just nodded and continued to rummage through the shelves. Cradling the carton of eggs in the crook of her arm, she balanced a stick of butter, a navel orange, the container of strawberries and a yogurt on top and then grabbed the gallon of milk. Closing the door with her hip, she carried her food to the counter.

"P'ay, Daddy."

"In a minute, jellybean." Logan placed his palm against the small of Veronica's back and with his other hand turned her face toward him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were troubled. "Hey…what's wrong?"

"Nothing; I'm just hungry."

With his thumbs he brushed the tears from her lashes. "Why don't you play with Wyatt and I'll make you whatever this—" He pointed at the odd food choices. "—is supposed to be."

The _'no thanks_' was right on the tip of her tongue and she held it back. Even though he was touching her, there was a mile of space between them. She knew what he was doing- retreating in an attempt at self-preservation, but she wasn't going to allow it. Sliding her arms around his waist, she squeezed his middle and rested her head on his chest. Automatically his arms encircled her, pulling her tighter. "I love you."

Logan laid his head on hers. "I love you too Veronica."

"Much better." She pulled her torso back just far enough to see his face. "Kiss?" She tapped her lips. "I brushed my teeth and everything." Opening her mouth wide, she chomped her teeth for his inspection.

A smile teased the corners of his lips as he bent his head to kiss her. "Mmm minty fresh." Her stomach growled and he chuckled. "I guess Morgan is hungry."

"Morgan?"

"Wyatt Earp's brother."

"A-ha so you agree, it's a boy."

He shook his head. "It's a girl. I just thought it would save us time if we picked unisex names. Dylan, Sawyer, Ryder, Billie."

Veronica took a loaf of bread from the breadbox and put two slices in the toaster. "You got Wyatt; we're not having a Billy."

"Not from Easy Rider; Billie as in Holliday." He was the picture of innocence.

"Uh-huh. I'm sure that's what you meant." She hip-checked him. "Go back to playing your game." Putting two eggs in a pot of water, she set it on the stove to boil and started humming. "_Mama may have, Papa may have, but God bless the_—" She abruptly stopped singing when she realized it was a Billie Holliday tune.

Logan laughed and tried to disguise it as a cough. "Come on Wy, now that Mommy's awake, we can get you ready for Nana Dot and Grandpa."

She stopped buttering her toast. "Nana Dot and Grandpa?"

"They're taking her to Dog Beach with Partner and—"

"Puppy!" Wyatt clapped. Veronica grinned at the term _puppy_. The Bull Mastiff was already taller than Wyatt and weighed more than double.

"And then they're going for lunch at C.H.U.C.K—"

She held up her hand so he wouldn't have to spell the entire thing. "Got it and where are you going to be?"

"With you."

"Oh? And where am I going?"

"I don't know, Veronica; you tell me." The playful, teasing voice was gone. He was looking for an answer to their conversation from last night.

She smiled at him. "I'm going to let you hold my purse while I shop for a new dress at the mall." At his confused look, she stood on her toes and gave him a light kiss. "You're going to like it, I promise."

Wyatt's voice traveled down the hall from her bedroom. "Daddeee." It was the over excited, happy call with the elongated vowels.

"Guess I shouldn't have mentioned the puppy." He gave her one last look before going to get Wyatt ready for her day with Grandpa and Nana Dot.

Veronica peeled her hardboiled eggs, added them to the plate of toast and sliced up her orange. Carrying the plate into the dining room, she booted up her laptop while she munched on a slice of toast. She'd rejected the idea of asking Clarence to loan her one of his people for her computer searches, but she still needed to find someone and there were only two people she knew with those kind of skills. One of them was lying in a hospital bed.

"Veronica Mars are you looking at porn?"

She gave him a distracted nod. "I need to find—"

"My birthday present?" He put his hands on her shoulders and ducked down until his head was level with hers.

"Well now that you've spoiled the surprise." She tapped the screen. "Do you want the sexy redhead or the sultry brunette?"

"Neither." Logan kissed her neck. "I already have a sassy blonde."

"That was the right answer by the way." She clicked on the contact us link and navigated away from the pictures of Netrotica's featured actresses. "I'm trying to find Max Rosen."

"Why do I know that name?" He sat in the chair next to her.

"Hearst." Veronica lowered the computer screen and looked behind her. "Where's Wyatt?"

"Picking out a tutu for Partner."

The idea of their daughter trying to get a tutu on that massive dog made her grin. "My dad is going to love that." She lifted the screen and pulled her pad closer. After writing down the address and phone number for Netrotica, she shut down the computer. "Max used to date Mac."

Logan nodded. "I remember. You tried to find his hooker and he helped with my grade my ass website."

"Grade my ass? Do I even want to know?"

"It was for my business class." He ignored her skeptical look. "He works in porn now?"

"Not works, owns. It's the porn version of Netflix- DVD delivery, streaming video; they even have a film studio to make their own movies."

"My wife, the porn connoisseur; I'm shocked and a little turned on."

"Now I'm shocked." He raised a quizzical eyebrow. "That you're only a _little_ turned on." Logan's smile was slow and _very_ suggestive. Veronica felt an answering flush suffuse her cheeks. _Wyatt's going to be out of the house all afternoon_. She shook her head to clear the thought. "Mac told me about his business."

He sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true."

Like the starting pistol at the beginning of a race, the sound of the doorbell triggered the response of tiny feet running down the hallway and a shouted, "Puppy!"

Logan went to get the door and Veronica jotted a few more notes on her pad before following him. Wyatt was already draped over the dog with her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried in his fur. Partner graciously accepted the attention for a few seconds, but then it was his turn. He jumped up, knocking Wyatt on her butt and started to lick her face. It was cute, but it was Logan's expression that made Veronica laugh. It was a cross between amusement at how happy Wyatt was and panic that this monster dog had its mouth near his daughter.

When the dog pushed her down on her back, Wyatt's smile faded and play time was over for Logan. He stepped forward to rescue her while Keith gave a gentle tug on the leash and commanded Partner to sit. In his over-excitement, it took the dog a while to respond, but Logan had already scooped up the baby and moved her away. Wyatt immediately squirmed free of his arms and went back for the dog. He shook his head and muttered, "Fearless like her mother." It didn't sound like a compliment.

Veronica frowned at him and then turned to Dottie. "Thanks for watching her."

She waved away the gratitude. "It's the best part of my day."

It was Keith's turn to frown. "What about the entire morning spent with yours truly?" He placed a palm on his chest and Dottie rolled her eyes.

"Watching you eat cereal and read the paper was not as entertaining as you seem to think."

His gaze moved from Dottie to Logan and then rested on Veronica. "I don't think either one of them is fully appreciating the Mars charm this morning."

"I'm not immune to the charms of all the Mars women." Logan nudged Veronica and pointed at Wyatt. Their daughter had pushed a bright, lime-green tutu over Partner's head and was trying to wriggle it down the dog's body. "I don't think it's going to fit, jellybean."

She pouted at him. "Daddy do."

Logan crouched down next to her. "I think it looks good right here." He fixed the tutu around the dog's neck and fluffed it out. "Perfect."

Clearly unconvinced by his claim of perfection, Wyatt crossed her arms, tilted her head and stared at him. Keith laughed and clapped Logan on the back. "You better hope the next one's a boy or you're never going to survive."

He smirked. "I think we could have six boys and these two would still run the show."

"You're probably right." Keith wrapped his arm around Veronica's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm surprised to see you here kiddo; I thought you'd be settling into your new job at Kane Software this morning?"

His question had Logan on his feet and picking up Wyatt. "Let's go put your sneakers on jellybean."

Correctly reading the tension, Dottie took Partner's leash from Keith. "I'm going to take the dog outside to show off his new tutu." She glanced at Veronica. "Call us when you're ready for Wyatt to come home."

"Way to clear a room Dad; is that another example of the Mars charm?"

"Did you and Logan have a fight? Was it because of my suggestion?" Keith frowned at her. "Because that was all my idea, he had nothing to do with it."

"We're not fighting. Duncan came for dinner last night and, let's just say, it didn't go well, but everything's fine now." _Time for a new subject_. "Does the Sherriff's Department still use the same garage?"

A look of dismay crossed his face. "I hope your question doesn't mean what I think it means."

"I just want to take a little peek."

"Veronica…" The resignation in his voice indicated that he knew it was a losing battle, but it still didn't stop him from trying. "I don't think that's a good idea. Why don't you just ask Norris for the report?"

"You worry too much."

"That's because I have you for a daughter."

She pointed to herself. "Chip," and then she pointed at him, "Old Block."

In spite of himself, Keith smiled. "Who are you calling old?"

Veronica shrugged. "If the orthopedic shoes fit."

Logan chose then to return with Wyatt. He gave her goodbye kisses and passed her to Keith with a diaper bag. "Have fun with Grandpa and Nana Dot."

Veronica took her turn showering their daughter with kisses. "Be a good girl." Wyatt gave them her backwards wave and then blew a loud lip-smacking kiss as Keith carried her out of the house. Veronica sighed. "It always seems too quiet when she's not here."

He nodded. "Or when she's up to something."

A soft smile crossed her face and then slowly faded. She placed her palm against his cheek. "I'm sorry."

Turning his head, he kissed her palm and took her hand. "Why are you apologizing to me?" He searched her face while waiting for an answer.

"Because I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but yet you still got hurt and for that I'm sorry."

Logan kissed her nose. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have thrown the past in your face; we're not supposed to do that to each other."

She nodded. "Since we're getting so good at this communication thing, want to go for the bonus round?"

"Not without more caffeine."

"Well I suppose at least one of us should get to enjoy a fine mountain roast." On her way to the kitchen, she retrieved her plate from the dining room table. She packaged up the orange slices and eggs, put them in the fridge and got the ginger ale. "Want some toast?" She popped two new slices of bread into the toaster and poured a glass of soda.

Logan nodded at the glass. "Toast and ginger ale?" Opening the microwave, he took out the untouched plate of bacon. "Queasy?"

"A little, I think it was the smell of the egg." His eyes flicked to the calendar on the fridge and she smiled. "My appointment isn't until next week."

"Maybe we should move it up; your morning sickness is supposed to be gone."

"It's only supposed to happen in the morning too, but they lie." Leaning against the counter, she watched him make his coffee. "Do you really think I'm blind to Duncan's faults?"

"You certainly never called him on any of his shit."

Veronica frowned at her glass. She didn't think she possessed a blind spot, Duncan-sized or otherwise. She remembered his passive nature, the ability to live in denial and avoid confrontation at all costs plus the underlying narcissism that made it all about him. Even last night it was '_this is hard_ _for me_._'_ When he wanted to apologize, it was more about salvaging _his_ friendship with Logan than it was for hurting Logan. _Don't forget just being an ass in general, Veronica._ Then there was his comment about ruining Logan's happiness, like it was in his power to effect that change. _But did I say anything about it? No_.

"Your toast is ready."

His words pulled her from her reverie. Forgoing the butter this time, she stuck with the dry toast, which was supposed to help. _Another lie_. "Maybe I just didn't care that much." He raised a brow over the rim of his coffee mug and she clarified. "About Duncan being with Meg or Kendall."

"The jealousy is strong with you, young Skywalker."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "It certainly didn't make me as crazy as seeing you holding hands with Hannah or playing grab-ass with Kendall."

Logan's answering smile was far too smug for her liking, but before she could tell him to check his ego, he asked his own question. "Did you really think his plan would work?"

Veronica frowned at him. "I believe I said it was a shitty idea; there are fewer holes in Swiss cheese. The people on the project aren't local, but with a little office gossip and some questions they'd know who I was in a matter of hours, not days."

"Then why even consider it?"

This was about more than the plan or the investigation. "Logan, I was never going to let anyone think that our baby was his or that I left you for him. You may remember the mention of a disguise?"

"But you were still willing to play Duncan's girlfriend."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this about you not trusting Duncan? Or do you not trust me? I was only considering the plan to see if there was anything usable in the idea, because…" She turned away and started cleaning the counter. "I'm not fearless."

Logan took the sponge from her hand and tossed it in the sink. "No running, talk to me."

"It's Laurel." His brows knitted in confusion. "She's so sad and lonely. God, Logan, she didn't even know what her mother looked like. If something happened to me, Wyatt wouldn't even remember me and I wouldn't get to see her grow up." He pulled her flush against him and wrapped his arms around her. "I love my job, but…and what about Mac? Someone tried to kill her over a computer? What if they try again? The Sherriff's Department thinks it was a traffic accident."

"Veronica, no one is asking you to quit your job. You don't have to feel guilty for loving it and you're damn good at it." He gripped her shoulders and pulled back. His eyes locked on hers. "And I do trust you."

"That's the right answer again- you're really on a roll today."

"I'm wise beyond my years."

"And conceited beyond your attributes." Her smile softened the wisecrack and she gave him a quick kiss. "I'm not going to do it; go undercover at Kane Software or pretend to be Duncan's girlfriend."

"What _are_ you going to do?"

"You're rich, right?"

"Last time I checked. Why? Have you spent all my money or donated it to some charity? Save the…insert name of newly endangered species, here."

"No, but we are going to invest…in Kane Software."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

"I thought you said I was going to like this? In fact, I believe you _promised_ that I would. I expected sex in the dressing room or at the very least a peep-show and some heavy-petting."

"No, I said I'd let you hold my purse." She tapped her bag. "Purse." Then she pointed at him. "You, holding." Turning back to the full-length mirror, she sulked. The emerald green shirt dress was loose and covered with a chiffon overlay. It didn't make her look pregnant, just fat. "Maybe I should try the red one again?" He shook his head. "Why? What was wrong with the red one? Aside from the fact that I looked like _The Blob_?"

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"I really can't win here, can I?" He rummaged through the pile of discarded dresses on the bench next to him. "I liked this one."

"It's strapless and short."

"I know." Logan waggled his eyebrows. "And your boobs looked fantastic."

She frowned. "Are you channeling Dick?"

"When we're talking about my wife's boobs, don't ever bring up Dick, okay? Well, unless it's my—"

"Logan!" Veronica's eyes darted around the department store to see if anyone was nearby and able to overhear their conversation.

"Hmm, I believe you're now the color of the dress in question." He held up the short cocktail dress. "Yep, almost a perfect match."

"Gimme that." Veronica yanked the dress out of his hand and stormed off for the dressing room. "Don't think you've won." She called from inside.

"I'm paying no attention to the flustered blonde behind the curtain."

When she stepped out of the dressing room, he was waiting patiently on the bench for her, but the pile of discarded dresses was gone. It was a clear indication that he thought he won the dress conversation. _Cocky bastard_.

Veronica turned to the mirror. The blush colored dress molded itself to her chest and clung to her curves. Its empire-waist and the soft folds of its silk skirt definitely made her look pregnant instead of fat. She glanced at Logan's reflection; his eyes were taking a slow trip up the length of her body. _The man could make a sack of potatoes feel sexy_. "I think that since you've been so patient—" She flashed him her best come-hither smile as she sauntered back toward the fitting room, "—you deserve a reward."

He was out of his seat in an instant and started to follow her. "Now we're talking."

At the doorway, Veronica put a staying hand on his chest to keep him from entering. "How do you feel about a Cinnabon?" She pulled the curtain closed leaving him outside and blocking his view.

"Tease." As soon as she wriggled out of the dress and it hit the floor, the curtain rustled and Logan was inside. His hands smoothed down her bare back, pulling her close and he pressed his mouth to hers. "This is more like it."

The first kiss was a quick little peck, but with each subsequent kiss they grew longer and more intense. When he finally released her mouth, she rested her forehead against his chest. Logan slid his hands over her ass and gripped her thighs. Knowing what he intended; Veronica pointedly looked around the dressing room. "It's kind of a tight fit."

"You know what else is a tight fit?" The coarse innuendo was a husky whisper against her ear.

She playfully swatted his arm. "You're terrible."

"No actually I'm quite good." He lifted her off the floor and she wrapped her legs around his hips. "Want me to prove it to you?"

"I think you already did that before we left the house."

"You think? You don't remember?" Logan sucked her neck. "Perhaps you need a refresher."

"What I need," she cupped his face and kissed him. "Is for you to go out there," another kiss, but a little longer this time. "And let me get dressed; we have things to do today and I want to stop at the toy store."

Reluctantly, he put her back on the floor. "I didn't realize they had an adult toy store in the mall?"

"You wish. I want to get Move and Groove for Wyatt; teach her some killer dance moves." She started to bob her head and flap her arms. "A little funky chicken and maybe the robot."

Logan laughed. "Can I film it and put it on YouTube?"

"No." Veronica pushed him out of the fitting room and got dressed. After paying for the dress, they detoured through the food court for a Cinnabon before stopping at the toy store for Wyatt. Logan limited the number of cinnamon rolls she could get and she limited the number of toys he could buy. "You're not fooling me; I know that train set is for you and Grandpa."

Logan grinned at the accusation. He started to load the bags into the trunk of the car. Holding up the one from Modish Maternity, he asked, "So when do you think I'll be seeing you in this dress again?"

Veronica shrugged. "I guess that depends on Duncan."

"What does Duncan—" he closed the trunk "—have to do with our sex life?"

"Huh?" She paused with her hand on the car door. "Who said anything about sex?"

"Please, Veronica. You saw you in that dress; the sex was a given."

She ducked her head and smiled. "Maybe I'll try it on again later; you know, because sometimes things look different at home…I think it's the lighting."

"Good idea." He tore his eyes away from her. "Kane Software next?"

She nodded and slid into the passenger seat. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and tried to dislodge the images of later. _Focus on the case, Veronica_. Research, she did research earlier while Logan was getting ready. "Do you know that corporate espionage isn't illegal? That in fact, it happens all the time; Proctor &amp; Gamble tried to steal shampoo formulas from Unilever, Volkswagen swiped plans from General Motors, a lot of corporate spies run legitimate businesses."

"Are you trying to find me a new job?" He started the car. "I could be a spy; I even have the tux for it." He glanced at her. "But I draw the line at dumpster diving."

Veronica turned her head to smile at him. "It's good to know you have a line."

"One of us has to."

She slapped her knee and gave him a hearty fake laugh. "If the spying thing doesn't work out, you can always be a comedian."

"See, I knew you found me funny."

"Looking." She frowned. "As long as you haven't signed a non-disclosure agreement, used fraud, or broke any laws to gather your information you're not going to be doing jail time. Even if our spy _is_ stealing Smartpaper for Microtech, the most that would probably happen to them is a slap on the wrist- fines or maybe a hefty sum in damages."

Logan braked at the traffic light and looked at her. "So how do you jump to murder and attempted murder? What's the rationale behind that? It's like shooting a cop for giving you a jaywalking ticket."

"You might kill the cop if you had an outstanding warrant for something else, something bigger." _Maybe there is more going on at Kane Software than espionage?_ She pointed. "Make a left instead; I want to go to the office first." He did her bidding, made the turn and backtracked to Mars Investigations.

Veronica was surprised to find Paige at her desk. She greeted them with a subdued, "Good morning." Dark smudges under her eyes spoke of little sleep and the lids were puffy from crying. "Any news on Mac?"

Veronica shook her head. "You don't have to be here today, Paige- go home, it's okay. I'll call you if we hear anything new."

"Thanks, but…I think I'll stay."

Logan leaned one hip against the desk and gave Paige a warm, reassuring smile. "Mac's going to be okay."

He sounded so sure, Veronica almost believed him herself. "I won't be long."

She went to her office, started up the computer and crossed to the filing cabinets. Lifting the lockbox out of the bottom drawer, she put it on her desk and then went to the closet to retrieve her Bug Guard. Before having a conversation with Duncan about their plans, she wanted to make sure his office wasn't wired for sound and that they wouldn't be overheard. She pocketed a few listening devices of her own and then returned to her desk.

Her resume was in a computer file labeled personal, she opened it and made a few minor adjustments; changing her last name, removing Mars Investigations, adding her Juris Doctor and admission to the California State Bar. She frowned at the address and phone number. Removing the address entirely, she put in the phone number for one of the office's dedicated lines and then created an email address to use. She sent the resume to the printer and recorded a greeting on the phone line.

Retrieving her keys from her purse, she opened the lockbox and took out her H&amp;K P30 handgun; it was a variant three with a safety. It was unloaded, but she racked back the slide just to double-check that there wasn't a bullet in the chamber. She stared at the 9mm and thought about putting it away. It was going to be difficult for her to carry. Wearing a belt holster around her belly was out and a shoulder holster was going to be too uncomfortable. Putting it on her ankle would be downright amusing as she tried to bend over to get it and she couldn't just toss the thing in her purse. Sighing, she put it back in the lockbox and took the entire thing with her.

Veronica walked out of her office into the middle of Paige's conversation with Logan and caught the tail end of her sentence. "—calls him a two-ten?"

Logan smirked. "A two-six-ten, it means he's lazy." He shook his head. "Jake and Nick are very different people."

"Feel like doing a little work?" At Paige's nod, Veronica handed her the resume. "Call Microtech Systems and pretend to be an employment agency with a…" Her voice trailed off at the anxious expression on Paige's face. "It's okay; I'll do it." Using her cell to look up Microtech's number, she picked up the desk phone and dialed.

With a nasally, raspy smoker's voice Veronica asked for human resources. "This is Eileen at Core Staffing and I found the perfect person for that job in your legal department. Her name is—" The woman on the other end cut her off: _'we're not looking for anyone in legal.'_

"Are you sure? Her name is Veronica Echolls and she's an ideal—" She rolled her eyes as human resources blathered on about not having an opening. She finally interrupted. "Look honey, somebody from _your_ department called _me_ to find a placement." She made a few sympathetic noises as the voice on the other end complained: _how am I supposed to do my job when they never tell me anything?_

"Just give me your fax number and I'll send over the resume. You're going to love Veronica- hardworking, overachiever type." She scribbled the fax number on a slip of paper. "Thanks, dear; you're a doll."

Logan was shaking his head as she hung up the phone. "You're very scary, Miss Hardworking Overachiever."

She grinned. "You love it." She gave the number to Paige. "Fax my resume over to them and remember to change the header on the machine to Core Staffing. Oh and line three is setup to be my home number so don't answer it just let it go to voicemail."

Paige was wearing a stunned expression. "I'm glad you made that call; I wouldn't have been able to do that."

"Stick with me kid and one day you too will be able to frighten big, strong men twice your size." She grabbed the lockbox. "I'll check in later and let you know about Mac."

Logan followed her from the office. "Microtech?"

"I don't really want to work there; I'm just hoping for an interview and a chance to look around." After storing the lockbox in the trunk, she climbed into the car. "A two-six-ten?"

"It will take two hours and six surgeons to remove my size ten boot from your ass; it's an _incentive_ for a slacker to get working."

"Was the surgery painful?" He frowned at her. "Just saying, I seem to remember a tee shirt worn by a certain someone—" she fake-coughed _you_ "—that proudly labeled the owner a slacker."

"Ah, the good old days; existing only on my wealth and charm."

She patted his leg. "Well, at least you still have your wealth."

"For now." He took her hand and laced their fingers together. "Are we actually going to buy stock in Kane Software? Prison for insider trading wasn't in my future plans."

"Do I feature in these future plans of yours?"

"Prominently." Raising her hand to his mouth, he kissed her fingers.

It was a short drive to Kane Software. The monolithic black granite K with the name Kane written down its stem still stood in front and the exterior of the building was the same, but she couldn't remember the last time she was actually inside. _Maybe when I was trying to find Amelia for Abel Koontz? _

The interior hadn't undergone any changes either and it was like stepping back into the past. _No money for renovations. _The same floor plan would make her next step easier. They stopped at the U-shaped wood reception desk. "We're here to see Duncan Kane."

"And you are?"

"Logan and Veronica Echolls." From the corner of her eye, she caught Logan smile at the names she gave.

He might have been happy with the name choice, but at the mention of _Echolls_, the receptionist's demeanor went from pleasant to frosty. "Do you have an appointment?" _Aaron Echolls accused murderer of Lilly Kane. The receptionist has probably been around as long as the ugly sculptures and dated décor._

"No, we're… can you just tell him we're here, he'll see us." She'd decided against calling him with an advanced warning of their arrival. It was better this way; her and Logan, here _together_ to tell Duncan what they'd decided. "Is there a bathroom I can use?"

Her lips pursed like she was going to refuse the request. Veronica took a casual step back and rested her hand on her belly. The receptionist's gaze dropped to the baby bump. She emitted a sigh of resignation. "It's down the hall and then a right."

"Thanks." Veronica followed her directions, but instead of making the right for the bathroom, she paused outside the conveniently labeled conference room doors. Glancing back toward the desk, she made sure no one was watching and ducked into the room.

The bugs she normally used were voice activated and would send her a text whenever sound was present, but they only had a battery life of nine days. She didn't know how often the conference room was in use and she didn't want to take a chance that the battery would die before she learned anything useful. She walked to the side of the large oval table and reached for the phone in the center. The harmonica bug would allow her to monitor the room and listen to both sides of any phone conversations; plus, as an added bonus the electrical power in the phone would keep the bug going indefinitely. _The energizer bunny of listening devices._ Veronica put the phone back together and returned it to its original spot. _One down, three more to go_.

Opening the door a crack, she checked the hall and exited the room. By the time she rejoined Logan in the reception area, he was waiting with a short, grey-haired woman who was wearing tortoiseshell glasses and a scowl. "You were gone awhile- feeling okay?" His tone was serious, but there was a flash of amusement in his eyes. Clearly he knew she was up to something and it wasn't a trip to the bathroom.

Veronica nodded. "Much better now; thanks for asking, _honey_."

"Of course, _darling_." It was difficult to maintain a straight face at his use of the endearment, but she managed it. Logan held out his arm. "Shall we?"

"Let's." She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and they followed their hostile escort. Duncan wasn't using his father's old office; he was in the room next door. If she had to guess, she'd say it wasn't for sentimental reasons, but because Charles Shepherd was already occupying that space.

The lack of funds didn't stop them from upgrading the executive offices. _It's Neptune, Veronica; of course, the rich can't work in squalor_. The modern furniture was a mix of exotic wood, glass and steel with soft edges and fluid shapes. Wyatt would find it all very confusing and unidentifiable, but the overall effect was soothing. As they walked in the door, Duncan stood to greet them. "I didn't expect—"

Veronica held up a hand to silence him. "We heard you were back in town and thought we'd stop by to say hello." Both men stared at her in confusion. "How long has it been? Twelve years?" She pulled the Bug Guard out of her purse and cradled it in her palm so it wouldn't be obvious.

Logan clued in to what she was doing. He shook Duncan's hand and gave him a one-armed hug. "It's really good to see you, man."

The unit was designed to detect all types of devices. If the numbers stopped low between 86 and 110 it was an FM listening device; if it stopped at 398.60 there was a UHF listening device and if it shot up between 900 and 2,400 there was probably a wireless video hidden somewhere. The room was clean. She turned off the machine and slipped it back in her purse, but she didn't drop the ruse. "How's Lilly?"

"Uh, Laurel, we had to change her name when we moved."

Veronica picked up his phone and took it apart. "Thirteen this year, right?" She turned her back to Duncan so he couldn't see her plant the bug. Putting the phone back together, she returned it to his desk. "I needed to make sure there were no listening devices."

He frowned. "Are there?"

"Nope, all clear." She took one of the visitor's chairs. "But when we're done here, I'd like to check out Charles Shepherd's office and the R&amp;D department." There was no point asking to see the actual lab where they were building the Smartpaper prototype since it was protected by a Faraday cage, but she did want to hear what else was going on in research and development.

Duncan nodded at her and turned to Logan. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't really think it through and what it would mean." He shrugged. "I just wanted to help."

Logan avoided eye contact and kept his expression impassive. He acknowledged the apology with a jerk of his head and took the chair next to Veronica. She knew he wasn't buying it and neither was she. The words Duncan used were _I've been giving this a lot of thought_ and he'd outlined the plan with enough detail to prove it; there was no way he didn't realize what it would involve. "Logan and I discussed it and we agree that it's not the right decision for our family."

She studied Duncan's face as she delivered the news. He didn't seem overly disappointed by the decision. "I'm still not comfortable with you coming to work here."

"Veronica isn't going to work here."

His reaction to Logan's words was surprise. "You're not going to investigate?"

An incoming text alert sounded on her phone. "I want you to have Celeste throw another meet and greet on Saturday so that Logan and I can attend."

Duncan frowned. "I don't understand."

"Veronica and I are going to pose as future investors in Kane Software."

"That's not going to work. The investors are all friends of my mothers; she was going to sell them some of her stock to raise capital. No one would believe that she would consider selling to…" An embarrassed flush crept up the back of his neck.

Veronica forged ahead. "You own stock in the company, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"No, Duncan; this is the plan. Logan and I attend the party together as potential investors or you find yourself another investigator."


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Duncan didn't have a choice but to agree with their plan and he promised to call them with the details after talking to his mother.

"I don't think you should tell Celeste we're coming."

Her suggestion flustered him. "I don't know, Veronica; do you really think it's necessary? You know how she feels about surprises."

_You had no problem keeping me a secret once before_. The memory made her frown. She pulled out her cell to buy some time before answering. The earlier text alert was a message from her dad: _bringing Wyatt home now- call me when you get a chance_. Veronica stood. "It's up to you whether you tell her we're coming or not, but the plan has to stay between us. As far as Celeste knows, we're there as investors, nothing more."

It was his turn to frown. "You don't think my mother…she's not stealing from her own company."

"The fewer people who know what I'm doing, the better." _I would've been happier not telling you_. "Or, is my safety no longer a concern for you?"

"Of course it is, but Celeste wouldn't—"

"Your mother hates me, Duncan." From the expression on his face, she didn't need to remind him exactly how much Celeste hated her. While she didn't really believe Celeste would hurt her, Veronica didn't trust her either. Her eyes narrowed. "Does she already know about the investigation?"

"Not exactly."

"It was a yes or no question. Does she know you hired me to look into the espionage or not?"

"I told her I was hiring _somebody_; I just didn't say it was you."

"Good, let's keep it that way." To avoid further discussion, she started for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and glanced back at Duncan. "You were going to take us next door and then to research and development."

"Right." Circling his desk to join her, he reached out to put a guiding hand on the small of her back. Veronica took a step away and collided with the solid chest of her husband who immediately slid his arm around her waist. Duncan was staring at them. More specifically he was staring at Logan. He offered a slight nod and Logan kissed the top of her head. It was as if an entire conversation passed between the two men with those simple gestures.

Duncan walked the few feet down the hall to Jake's former office and knocked.

"Come in." It was a deep, authoritative baritone and Veronica frowned. _Planting this bug just got harder_. The three of them traipsed into the room. It was the antithesis of Duncan's modern, fluid space. From the mahogany desk to the barrister bookcases and leather chairs with nail-head trim, Charles Shepherd's office shouted traditional executive. He was waiting expectantly for them to give a reason for their visit. "Did you need something?"

When neither Logan nor Duncan said anything, Veronica stepped forward. "We're old friends of Duncan's and he's giving us a tour." She held out her hand and Charles stood to shake it. "Veronica Echolls and this is my husband, Logan."

If the name meant anything to him, he gave no indication. He turned to shake Logan's hand. "It's a pleasure."

Her cell was still in her hand. While Charles was busy greeting Logan, she tapped the sound icon and the text alert to make her phone chime. She studied the screen for a minute. "It says I have no service." Holding the phone aloft, she walked closer to the windows and the desk like she was looking for a signal. "I don't suppose… would it be okay if I used your phone? I need to call the sitter."

"Of course." His smile was distant and polite. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl, she's two." Veronica waved at his chair. "May I?" Without waiting for his assent, she settled herself behind the desk. "Do you have any kids?"

"A boy and a girl- both teenagers." It was clear from the way he said it that he was not having an easy time with the teenage years. _Maybe you shouldn't have left their mother for a model half your age._

She offered a sympathetic nod. "I say this one's a boy, but my husband insists it's another girl. Don't you honey?" Veronica glanced at the phone and gave Logan a pointed look.

"The show is called _Father Knows Best_ for a reason, dear." Logan grinned at her knowing she couldn't make any snappy comeback without ruining her sweet loving wife routine. He turned back to Charles. "Duncan mentioned an investment opportunity and I've got a few questions."

"Happy to help." His tone was dismissive and Veronica _almost_ felt bad for him.

The shift in Logan's demeanor was instant; gone was the easygoing, affable husband and in his place was the sharp, focused man who knew his way around investments. "How close is Wall Street in estimating your earnings results? Do you think you'll meet the consensus?"

Charles blinked and Veronica bit her lip to keep from smiling. "The analysts are sometimes a little optimistic."

Logan nodded at the answer. "Would you mind walking down to R&amp;D with us? I'd really like to know about your plans to advance the stock."

She was completely forgotten about by the three men as they started to exit the office. _Well, not all three_. Logan held back for a second and turned his head to give her a quick wink.

Once they were in the hall, she heard Charles ask, "Isn't your wife going to join us?"

"She'll be along in a minute." As he was speaking, Logan angled his body to block her from view and gripped the edge of the door. "You know how mothers can get when they're away from the baby for too long. Now tell me more about those earnings results."

Veronica tuned out the answer. She inserted the bug in the phone before Charles decided they shouldn't wait in the hall and then called her dad. He answered on the first ring. "Hey kiddo."

Wyatt was crying in the background. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know; she got cranky at lunch, but the crying didn't start until we got here and you weren't home. Maybe she's a little overtired?"

"Did you try giving her Cuddles?" The stuffed bunny was Wyatt's comfort object.

"We can't find it."

"Sometimes he gets stuck between the rails and her mattress." The baby was a restless sleeper, which meant Cuddles could wind up in many strange places. "Do you want to put her on the phone?"

"That might make it worse." Veronica could see the logic in Keith's statement, but it didn't prevent her from wanting to comfort her daughter.

"I'll wrap this up and come home."

"See you when you get here." Normally, her father would tell her there was no need to rush home and to take her time. The fact that he didn't do that now meant Wyatt was more than cranky.

Hanging up the phone, she joined the men in the hall. "Hate to interrupt, but you're going to have to finish this conversation at another time." She gave Charles a quick smile. "Maybe Saturday at Celeste's party?"

Worry furrowed Logan's brow. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, but we need to head home." She turned to Duncan. "Walk us out?"

Charles nodded at her and shook hands with Logan. "It was very nice to meet you; I look forward to continuing our discussion- Saturday?"

"Saturday," he confirmed. They stepped out of the doorway to allow Charles to return to his office. Once the door was closed, Logan took her hand and started walking for the exit.

_More like pulling me toward the exit_. "Hey Speedy Gonzalez you want to slow down?" Veronica tugged on his hand and his pace relaxed, but he didn't stop. "We still need to see the R&amp;D department."

There was no time for her to finesse the insertion of a bug into one of their phones; she would have to use one of her regular listening devices and hope she learned something before the battery died.

Logan stopped. "I thought we needed to get home?"

A slight twinge of guilt for not rushing right home, assailed her. _It's only an extra five minutes, Veronica; it's not like Wyatt's alone or in danger_. "We do, but I'll be quick." She checked to make sure Duncan was still with them. "Is the Smartpaper lab nearby?"

He shook his head. "Other side of the building. Uh, Veronica, we can't just walk through R&amp;D, you need a better plan than a tour- all its information is confidential."

_Thanks for mentioning that back in your office_. "Who's in charge of the department?"

"Rick Abbott."

"Take us to his office for an introduction." It wasn't ideal. She would've preferred being able to listen in on the actual workers, but it would have to do.

Duncan checked his watch. "He's probably down in the lab or at lunch now."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "That works out better for us don't cha think?"

"I guess." He shrugged and a slight smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "We're not all experts in detective work and undercover spy missions, you know."

Rick Abbott's office was on the ground floor in the opposite direction of the conference room and they had to pass the receptionist desk; she was on the phone, but it didn't stop her from glaring at them as they walked by. "I hope Wyatt didn't inherit that gene from us," Veronica grumbled.

"What do you mean _us_?" Logan smirked. "People love me."

"What people? Where?" She made an exaggerated show of looking for said people; first scanning the hall and then glancing over her shoulder to check the lobby.

"I'm looking at one right now." He tapped her nose. "And really Veronica who else matters?"

"You're such a sweet talker."

"I know." He nodded in agreement. "That's why people like me."

A silver plate bearing the name, Richard Abbott, and his title, Director of Research and Development, in bold, black letters was affixed to the wall at the right of his office door. Duncan rapped on the laminate wood surface. When there was no response, he tried the handle and the door swung open without hesitation. Veronica put a restraining hand on his arm. "You two wait out here."

"So does that make us the lookout now?" Duncan checked both directions of the hall. "Do we need a signal?"

Logan was frowning at him. _Interesting_. "I'll be back in two minutes." Veronica ducked into the office, closed the door and flicked on the overhead lights. Rick was a visual planner. A large white board ate up the entire wall across from his desk. It was divided in columns, each was labeled with the name of a project and beneath it were notes regarding its stage of development. It was all written in some kind of shorthand. She used her cell to take a picture so she could decipher it later.

Veronica shook the mouse to wake up the computer. It was on the login screen and waiting for a password. She flipped through the pages of his desk calendar for any words or numbers that might be his password. An entry on the Friday before the accident read, _'ask Mac tomorrow._' It was either a reminder for him to ask Mac to work on Saturday or he knew she was going to be in the office and had a question for her. She rifled through the drawers, but didn't come up with a password or anything else of interest.

Her two minutes was closer to ten. It was time to finish and go home. She planted the last harmonica bug in his phone, straightened the items on his desk and turned off the lights. When she exited the office, she found Duncan waiting right outside the door and Logan leaning against the wall opposite him; neither of them was talking. Pushing himself off the wall, Logan took her hand and asked, "Ready?"

"One minute." She turned to Duncan. "Do all the employees sign non-disclosure agreements or just those involved with product development?"

"I'm not sure? Everybody, I think, except maybe the secretaries?"

"Find out for me and call me with a time for Saturday." When they reached the main entrance, Duncan offered them a wave goodbye and Veronica stopped him from leaving. Knowing that Logan would have no complaints about Laurel joining them, she was careful with the wording of her question. "Can we take Laurel out on Friday night?"

There was a slight hesitation. "Sure, do you want me to—"

"We'll come by the Grand to pick her up, around five?" He nodded and headed for the elevators.

Logan didn't say anything until they were in the car. "Friday?"

"Fun Bowl, remember? The slip and fall guy? I was going to have my dad go, but" —she shrugged— "I thought Wyatt would like it." Veronica turned her head to study his profile. "You were very quiet in there."

"It's been known to happen."

"When you're asleep maybe," she murmured. "Did something happen with Duncan while I was in Abbott's office?"

He shook his head. "What's going on with Wyatt?"

"Dad said she was cranky at lunch and she was crying when I called. His guess is a little overtired."

Logan picked up on her uncertainty. "And you think it is?"

"Us." She sighed. "You were gone for six months and now I'm back to work full time, we're both stressed about Mac and Duncan, which I'm sure she can sense, plus there's this mysterious baby we keep talking about who isn't her." Veronica frowned. "That's a lot for her to process." _It's a lot for me to process_.

"Glad to see you haven't been thinking about this too much." It was said with a sardonic smile. "What do we do?"

"Is that desert island still an option?"

"Sure- you can handle the case of the missing coconut and I'll build hammocks from palm branches."

"That already solves my first case- you stole the coconut to use its husk for your hammock." She grinned.

"Veronica Mars are you accusing me of evil?"

"No." She shook her head. "Evil would be when you buried all my clothes and turned our island into a nudist colony."

"Who said anything about bringing clothes?" He pulled into the driveway next to her dad's Camry. There was no crying coming from the house. _Maybe they got her down for a nap_?

As soon as they walked into the house, Dottie's shoulders sagged and she gave them a grateful smile. She was kneeling on the floor putting away Wyatt's toys. It looked as if every bin was dumped and scattered across the hardwood. She waved a submarine in the air. "In the bin with vehicles or bath time toys?"

Logan surveyed the destruction. "That bad, huh?" He got on the floor with her. "Let me do this."

Their pint-size little mischief maker was nowhere in sight. "Is she napping?"

"She's in her room with Keith." Dottie offered a half-hearted chuckle. "But I don't think napping is part of her plan for today."

"I better go rescue him." Veronica dumped her bag on the sofa and headed for the back of the house.

She'd only made it halfway down the hall before Wyatt came barreling out of her room. "Mama!" She threw herself at Veronica's legs and squeezed. The force of the impact almost sent them toppling over and Veronica put a hand against the wall to steady herself. "Daddy?"

Picking her up, she snuggled her close. "He's in the living room putting away all your toys." Instead of squirming to get free, Wyatt rested her head on Veronica's chest and sighed. "Were you being a pout-pout fish today?" It was another of her favorite stories; a series of adventures featuring a pouty fish.

The baby shook her head. "No, kiss-kiss fish."

Veronica rested her cheek on the top of Wyatt's head and smiled. "Are you sure you're a kiss-kiss fish?" Her little head bobbed up and down. "Then you know what that means, right?" Her tiny giggle said she did. Lifting her head, she titled it back and closed her eyes waiting for smooches. Veronica peppered her face with loud, lip-smacking kisses. "I love my kiss-kiss fish."

"Mama kiss-kiss fish too." Veronica bent her head forward and closed her eyes so Wyatt could drop tiny kisses all over her face. When she was done, she patted her cheek. "Love Mama."

Keith was standing in the doorway smiling at them. "It warms this old heart to watch the two of you together."

Veronica kissed his cheek. "Sorry it was such a rough day."

"Eh, I've had worse….I raised you, remember?"

"We were this close" —she held up her thumb and forefinger— "to having a Hallmark moment and you ruined it with your lies about me being a difficult child."

"Oh honey, you're _still_ a difficult child."

She walked past him with a huff, carrying Wyatt into her room. The chaos of the living room was a continuing theme, but instead of toys, all her books were off the shelves and the bed was in shambles. Veronica put the baby down. "Okay, first you have to help Mommy put all your books back."

Wyatt folded her arms across her chest and Veronica could almost see the _no_ hovering over her pursed lips. Then abruptly she changed her mind; dropping her arms and tilting her head to the side. "Read 'tory Mama?"

Veronica averted her face so the baby wouldn't see her smile. Kneeling on the floor, she started to stack the books. "Let's put these on the pretty shelves Daddy made you and then we can pick one to read."

Logan had built her corner shelves using white, vinyl rain gutters. They made it easy for her to see the covers of her books, but it also made it easy for her little hands to pull them all down when she was in a pique. The baby took her time studying each one before slowly returning it to a shelf. To speed up the process, Veronica put away the stack she was holding leaving only a handful for Wyatt to shelve.

Getting off the floor, she made the bed and went on a search for Cuddles. "Logan?" By the time he appeared in the doorway, Wyatt was clutching three books to her chest. The meaning of _we can pick one to read_ completely lost on her. "I can't find C.U.D.D.L.E.S."

He nodded and disappeared from view. Wyatt dropped her books to run after him. "Daddy!"

"Easy, Jellybean; I'm just going to get your bunny. Remember we took him fishing with us yesterday?"

Veronica scooped up the three books and followed them. Logan was on the floor rescuing the bunny from under their bed. "Did my dad and Dottie leave?"

"Yeah. Dottie tripped him in her haste to get through the door first, but he tackled her on the porch and beat her to the car." He smirked. "There was a lot of crying and screaming and hair-pulling too. Well, not so much hair-pulling for your dad, but he _was_ sobbing like a baby."

"Amateurs." She kicked off her shoes and stripped out of her jeans. "I think we should all lie down in the big bed and take a nap." Wyatt's eyes narrowed in suspicion, like this was some kind of nefarious plot to make her fall asleep. Veronica yawned. "I'm very tired."

Logan's gaze swung from the baby to her and then back to Wyatt. He shook his head and grinned. "Okay, naptime it is." Taking off his sneakers, he stretched out on the bed and snuggled with Cuddles. Wyatt didn't budge.

Shrugging, Veronica joined him on the bed and handed him the books. She put her head on his shoulder. "Read this one first- it's my favorite."

"It's a good one." Logan opened the picture book. "I see a monster hairy and red. Where is he hiding?"

That was enough. Wyatt climbed on the bed, wiggled up between their bodies and took Cuddles from Logan. She popped her thumb in her mouth and pulled open the flap in the book so Daddy could read the next line. Veronica grinned at Logan and kissed the top of their daughter's head.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It took all three books and a second reading of _Moo Baa La La La_ before Wyatt was completely asleep. Logan carried her to her room while Veronica got redressed. She still needed to go see Max, plus she wanted to stop by the hospital and she had to call Weevil. _Not a good idea to be gone when Wyatt wakes up, Veronica_.

She poked through the contents of the fridge. The only thing she'd eaten today was toast and a cinnamon roll. _Two cinnamon rolls_. How did other women balance motherhood, work, pregnancy and a husband? They all made it look so easy and she was having a hard time remembering to eat. _And I love eating_. She grabbed the kale, pasteurized feta cheese and Kalamata olives from the fridge, found the bacon from this morning and got a can of sardines from the pantry.

When Logan saw the food on the counter, he gagged. "You're not going to eat that are you?"

"It's good for me." She held up the kale. "Iron, Vitamin A and folic acid." Then she pointed to the sardines. "Omega-3 and the feta has protein."

"I would rather eat actual iron and acid."

"And I would rather you be the one who was pregnant, but we can't always get what we want."

"Okay Mick Jagger."

Veronica chopped the kale, added the other ingredients and used some of the olive juice and a lemon as dressing. "I think I'll go see Max in the morning, but I still want to go to the hospital tonight and I have a little field trip to make."

"You make it sound so innocent, but the words little field trip struck terror in my heart."

She shrugged. "Maybe if you didn't know me so well, you'd sleep better at night."

"I sleep just fine." Logan slipped his arms around her waist. "Provided you're right there next to me, snoring and stealing the covers." He kissed her neck. "Tell me about your field trip."

"Later- must have food, now." She removed his arms from her waist and took her salad to the table. After her first bite, any thought of conversation disappeared and all focus was on eating. She didn't lift her head until every last morsel was gone. Dropping the fork, she let it clank against the empty bowl and sat back. Logan was watching her with an amused smile. She ignored him and eyed the fridge, visualizing its contents while trying to decide what to eat next. "Do we have any more of that black bean chili?"

Logan got the container of chili and dumped it in a pot to reheat. Returning to the fridge, he pulled out the oranges and strawberries from this morning along with a lime. He took ice from the freezer and grabbed a banana from the hammock on the counter.

Veronica watched with interest as he squeezed the oranges and the lime directly into the blender. "Whatcha making?"

"A smoothie." He added the rest of the fruit and ice.

"For me?"

He laughed. "Yes, for you." When it was done, he served her a big bowl of chili and the fruit smoothie. "There's still more in the pot if you want it."

"This should be good." She frowned; Logan hadn't eaten lunch either. "You eat it and I'll share my smoothie with you."

"Keep your smoothie; Spencer needs the vitamins." Getting himself a glass of lemonade and the rest of the chili, he joined her at the table.

"As in Spencer for hire?"

Logan shook his head. "As in the First Commander of the Naval Air Station North Island or maybe Ellyson- the Navy's first aviator?"

"Okay."

He choked on his spoonful of chili. "Did you just say okay?"

"I've got to keep you on your toes Echolls. Don't want you to get bored with me being predictable."

"The words predictable and Veronica are antonymous." He frowned. "Which one did you say yes to, Spencer or Ellyson?"

She grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know." Leaving her chair, she straddled his lap and rested her head on his chest. "I love how much time you spend thinking of baby names."

Stroking his hand down her spine, he kissed the top of her head. "And I love you."

"That was some pretty fancy business-speak today with Charles Shepherd." Ever since the baby was born, Logan started taking more of an interest in his trust and its investments: _'I need to think about Wyatt's future,'_ but she was still impressed. "Plans to advance the stock?"

"Those were only generic investor questions; I'll call Tomás this week and have him give me an education on Kane Software and its stock before Saturday's party."

"Speaking of Tomás, I need to call his cousin and see if he's available to join me on my little field trip."

Logan groaned. "Remember the terror in my heart? It just increased exponentially with the addition of Weevil."

Veronica kissed his cheek and climbed off his lap. "It should've _decreased_. I'll have backup and my gun; plus I don't know enough about cars to do this on my own."

Understanding dawned in his eyes and she knew he'd figured out her plan. "Try not to get arrested, okay?"

"You never let me have any fun," she pouted. "Besides you'll come bail us out."

"Weevil, I'll bail Weevil out because he's your unwitting patsy, but you, oh criminal mastermind, are on your own." He thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Hmm, maybe I can add to my Veronica behind bars photo collection."

"One photo, Echolls, you have one."

"That's what I meant by _add to_; I should've had Dick take a picture the last time you were arrested- I hate missed opportunities." He smirked. "I'm hoping to eventually have enough to make a calendar."

She rolled her eyes and picked up her spoon for another mouthful of chili. "Now you know about my plans for tonight; are you going to tell me what Duncan did to make you mad?"

"Exist." He jabbed the chili with his spoon. "He was mocking you and I didn't like it."

"Mocking me?"

Logan nodded, "First with the undercover spy mission crack and then the shot about being the lookout and needing a signal."

"I don't…" His head jerked up and he glared at her. Dropping her gaze to the table, she took a deep breath. With slow, deliberate movements, she placed her spoon down and aligned it with her bowl. "Are you going to get mad at me every time we talk about Duncan?"

"I don't know, Veronica; are you going to defend him every time we talk?"

"What I was _going_ to say is, I don't understand where all this is coming from- the animosity? He was your best friend. Even after finding out that Aaron killed Lilly and when we started dating again, you two were friends. I know it wasn't easy, but the relationship seemed to be important to both of you so…what's changed?"

"Do you want us to be friends? Is that the outcome you're expecting? You'll solve the case and it will be like old times? The three of us eating Chinese and watching The Big Lebowski on Friday nights?"

"Forget it, Logan. I'm going to check on Wyatt and call Weevil."

"Wait" —he grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving— "I'm sorry I snapped at you." His soft brown eyes entreated her to stay and finish their conversation.

Veronica pressed her palm to his cheek. "Willing to try this again?"

Nodding, he let go of her hand and got up from the table. "You're what changed." He dropped his bowl in the sink. "I'm not jealous. I know you love me Veronica." He leaned against the cabinets, arms at his side and curled his fingers around the edge of the countertop. "I know things now that I didn't know back then and I don't like how he treats you."

"Which is how exactly?"

"It's all about Duncan. Well that's not really new is it?" He shook his head. "I was a selfish prick back then too so I didn't pay much attention to it, but after our summer together" —he pointed at her and then himself— "it was hard not to notice."

"I'm well aware of Duncan's passive nature and that his first thoughts are always about himself." She smirked. "And let's not forget his tendency to shirk responsibility and let others take the blame. Until yesterday, I thought it was _your_ idea to toss me in the pool after Winter Formal."

Logan closed his eyes and a slow smile spread across his lips. "I'll go back to taking the blame for that idea. That dress was _very_ thin."

"Perv."

His eyes popped open. "What? Can't a man fantasize about his wife? It was better than a wet tee shirt contest."

"I wasn't your wife then."

He shrugged. "It was only a matter of time." Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. "Those few months when you got back together with Duncan were torture for me. I hated seeing you with him; not only because I wanted you with me, but because of how he treated you. Keeping you a secret from his parents, dismissing your ideas about the bus crash, hiding Meg's pregnancy, doing whatever it was that he was doing with Kendall and trying to…_mold_ you into his ideal Veronica."

She tilted her head back to see his face. "Did he tell you all that? I mean about the keeping me secret and the bus crash?"

"We were friends remember? We talked. He told me you were investigating the bus crash, but he made it seem like it was a _hobby._ It was as if he'd completely forgotten _you_ were the one to solve Lilly's murder." He shrugged. "The only times he ever seemed to take you seriously were when he needed something from you. Otherwise, it was my girlfriend's a detective, wink, wink."

"That's why his comments today pissed you off."

"Yes. It's also why I was so angry with you back then." Logan chuckled. "Okay, I was angry because I was jealous as hell, but I also didn't like what you were letting him do to you. I could almost _see_ the effort you were exerting trying to pretend that everything was normal and perfect." He kissed the top of her head. "Then when he ran away with Lil…Laurel and left you here holding the bag, I wanted to track him down just to beat the shit out of him."

"I didn't really do that for him." She took a step back. "Did Duncan know about Aaron? What he was doing to you? I know you said you kept it from Lilly, but what about Duncan?"

"Not the details, but some of it." At her doubtful look, he smirked. "We didn't exactly sit around braiding each other's hair spilling our deepest secrets while reading Cosmo and talking about the cute girls in class."

"No" —she grinned— "You did that with me and Lilly."

"Are you still mad that I can do a French braid better than you can?" Logan kissed her nose. "Because you have got to let that go."

"It's cute that you think that's true." Veronica rested her head on his chest. "The Mannings were going to get custody. Since Duncan was never married to Meg, he didn't have any legal right to Laurel."

Logan took hold of her shoulders and pulled back; his eyes probing hers. "So when Wyatt was born, I didn't have any legal right to her?"

"No, that's why we both had to sign a Voluntary Declaration of Paternity; so your name could go on her birth certificate. Meg wasn't able to do that, which meant Duncan would've had to get a court order to establish his rights before he could even fight for custody."

"A paternity test would've proved she's his daughter. Why not do that? Why give up your entire life and flee the country?"

"His parents didn't want to help and the Mannings knew about his violent episodes- it was going to be a long, ugly battle and he had no money to fight it." Veronica rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. "They're abusive, Logan. The Mannings abused their kids and Meg made me promise that if something happened to her, I wouldn't let them get her baby."

His shoulders slumped and he turned away. "Fuck," he spit the expletive out from between clenched teeth. "Is your dad the only decent parent in Neptune?"

"Hey, don't forget the two of us." Veronica placed her hand on his arm. "I'd say we're better than decent."

"Yes, but we don't live in Neptune, remember? We're Neptune adjacent."

Standing on her toes, she kissed his jaw. "I'm going to call Weevil; will you get the bags from the trunk?"

"Already done, they're on the dining room table and I put your gun in the safe." Logan had a biometric gun safe installed in their bedroom closet. It was bolted to the floor and could only be opened with either his or her thumbprint. The safe was designed to keep his gun out of the baby's reach, but still be easily accessible if they needed it in an emergency and Veronica hated it. _But if it was a little bigger, I could hide Wyatt's birthday presents in it._

That thought immediately dissipated when she saw the amount of packages on the table. _Either the toys multiplied in the trunk or Logan added more to the cart when I wasn't looking_. She sorted through the bags. He got her the Little People pig pen, chicken coop and tractor to go with her barn. More farm animals, the Little People airplane and helicopter, another pout-pout fish book and the train set. _We're going to need another house just for her toys_. "Logan."

"You rang?"

Veronica waved her hand over the boxes. "Explain."

"They're what you call toys." He grinned. "She'll only turn two once and she loves her little people." He started stacking the boxes. "I'll put these in the garage with the rest of her presents."

"The rest?" She shook her head and sighed. Snagging the box with the Move and Groove game for them to play later, she let him take the rest for hiding in the garage without any further protest. He loved buying her presents, but he was so good about reserving the purchases for birthdays and Christmas _and_ keeping the gifts reasonable that she couldn't deny him the privilege of spoiling their daughter twice a year.

Taking the bag with her dress, she retrieved her purse from the sofa and headed for the bedroom. Veronica checked on Wyatt. She was curled in the corner of the mattress with her feet sticking through the bars of the guardrail. Her mouth was open and she was softly snoring. Cuddles was dangling over the edge, his ear clenched tight in Wyatt's fist and all the blankets were on the floor. _Restless sleeper_.

Veronica went to her room and closed the door behind her as not to disturb the baby. After hanging up her dress, she called Weevil. "Hey buddy."

There was an almost inaudible groan. "You're tilting your head aren't you?"

"No." She straightened her head. "Whatcha doing later?"

"I _was_ going to have a beer and watch the game, but now I'm thinking I'll be doing something slightly more dangerous and highly illegal with this nutty blonde I know."

"Nutty blonde? She sounds great; when do I get to meet her?"

A loud, exaggerated sigh from the other end of the line, "You know sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I never met Veronica Mars."

"Do I have to make you watch It's A Wonderful Life again? Without me, Mr. Potter would own your shop and you'd be a lonely, old maid."

"Right and Harry would've fallen through the ice."

Veronica grinned. "I _knew_ you liked the movie, you old softie."

"Not me, Valentina liked it."

"Uh-huh, sure." Valentina didn't look like she was enjoying anything this past Christmas let alone a movie. It was a rough holiday for her- the first, since Jade and Weevil's divorce became final and she had to split the day between her parents. "So, uh, do you have Valentina this weekend?"

"Yeah I pick her up Thursday night." The sadness in Weevil's voice was unmistakable. He was having a hard time adjusting to visitation.

Veronica could relate. She left the bedroom and peeked in on Wyatt one more time. _If I only got to see her on weekends it would kill me_. She returned the door to its partially closed position and walked into her office. "Want to come bowling with us on Friday?"

"Will we be out of jail by then?"

"Do you and my husband work out these routines in advance or are you both naturally gifted at improv?"

"Neither, we just know you."

"Don't worry; Logan promised to post your bail." She shuffled through the files on her desk. Opening the one on the trophy wife, she flipped through the surveillance photos Lisa had taken. "Hey, is Nico Benedetti still running drugs in our fair city?"

"No, forget it; we're not reprising our roles as Rory Gilmore and her sad-sack boyfriend."

"I'm asking strictly for informational purposes." Veronica knew Nico still operated the jazz club where the Seventh Veil used to be because she drove past it on her way to work every morning. No doubt, he wasn't arrested for his mob dealings since Lamb was _never_ going to bite the hand that fed him, but did that mean Nico would be in the business of selling coke to a trophy wife? She closed the file. "Actually what I really need is your car expertise, not your acting abilities because, let's be honest, you're no Jimmy Stewart."

"Maybe not, but you ain't exactly Donna Reed."

"Don't tell Logan that because he's getting me the moon for my birthday." Weevil's soft, sarcastic _'aww'_ made her grin. "So, here's what I'm thinking- Mac's car accident? Not an accident and I want to break into the garage to have a look at the Toyota."

"And when you say garage, do you mean the one owned and operated by the Sheriff's Department?"

Ignoring his question, she opened Lisa's personnel file. "Tonight around eight? You can meet me at the hospital and we'll go together."

"Okay, but you'll owe me one."

Veronica frowned. "Who got the charges against you dropped?"

"Who found your missing witness hiding in the barrio?"

"Who gave you the money to reopen your shop?"

He laughed. "Your husband."

The answer had her conceding defeat. "Fine- I'll owe you one." Hanging up the phone, she took both files and went to find Logan. He was in the kitchen trimming the fat off a flank steak. "If you wanted to score some coke where would you go?"

Logan paused mid-cut, slowly put the knife down and turned. "Why are you asking me that?"

"No, it's not…I'm sorry." That part of his past was still a sensitive subject and one he rarely discussed. Veronica put the files on the counter next to him. "It's this case Lisa was working on."

"The slip and fall?"

She shook her head. "Rich husband accused his estranged wife of being a cokehead so he could keep custody of their son. It was one of the cases Lisa turned over to me when she started working for Duncan, but the file was back on her desk when I went to the office yesterday."

"The wife you were following around last week?" At her nod, he asked, "I thought you were going to turn that over to your dad?"

"I was, but then I started thinking—"

"Started? When do you ever _stop_ thinking?"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment and move on." Veronica took down a mug and waved it at him. "Coffee?"

"Okay." He went back to the steak.

She took down another mug; made him a cup of regular and a cup of decaf French Vanilla for herself to which she added a liberal amount of half and half and sugar. "The first part of any homicide investigation is to look at the victim. I've only been focusing on Kane Software, but Lisa was working other cases. Plus there's Lisa herself- her past, her relationships and her elusive family."

"Didn't you run a background check when you hired her?"

Veronica nodded and tapped the personnel file. "We went back five years. She had an Associates Degree in Criminal Justice from San Diego State, worked for a private investigator for the required minimum three years before getting her own license and she had no criminal record, obviously." The Department of Justice would've run her prints when she applied for her license and a criminal record would preclude her from being eligible.

"Does this mean you're going to investigate Mac too?"

She watched him pour the pickled jalapenos over the steak while she thought about her answer. There wasn't much about Mac's past she didn't already know; they'd been friends since they were sixteen. Veronica frowned. _The only things in her past that were even remotely dangerous were when she was helping me_. Unless it was something of a more personal nature. _Why was Lauren Sinclair at the hospital? Did she know?_ "When we were in high school Mac had me look into her parents."

"The switched at birth thing?"

Veronica gaped at him. "You know?"

"Mac told me. We were talking about her and Dick and she just came out with it. Said that in some crazy alternate-universe she would've been Madison Sinclair and she wondered if she would've been like her- shallow and bitchy, or if she would've still been Mac." He smirked. "She wondered if she, as Madison, would've dated Dick."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "She was a little drunk and I think she regretted saying anything so I let it go."

"Well do you? Think she would've been like Madison and dated Dick?"

"No and no. I think she would still be the Mac we know and love, but with a different name." He chuckled. "Of course that means your best friend now would be Madison Sinclair."

Veronica shuddered. "That's too horrible a thought to even contemplate." She took a sip of her coffee and stared at Logan. "It also means that you—"

"Let's not even go there okay?" He shook his head. "I just want to make dinner for my wife and daughter, play a board game, watch Peter Pan for the hundredth time and go to bed." Logan turned back to the counter and started slicing a head of cauliflower.

Veronica slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. "That sounds perfect."


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They did exactly what he wanted. They hopped like kangaroos, did the Funky Chicken, played air guitar and skipped around the room in a rousing game of Move and Groove. A dinner of carne asada tacos with Spanish rice and fried cauliflower was followed by a bubble bath for Wyatt. After which, Veronica put her in pajamas, piled pillows on the living room floor, made a plate of shortbread cookies and left her watching Peter Pan with Logan.

An entire fun-filled, family evening with no mention of Madison Sinclair, but it didn't mean Veronica wasn't thinking about her. Not the hypothetical if Mac was Madison and vice versa thoughts, but the- does _Madison_ know she was switched at birth kind of thoughts. If she did, when did she find out and what did it have to do with the case, if anything? _Face it Veronica, you were also thinking about seeing her again at Celeste's party_. Duncan said the Sinclairs were at the first party, which is why Lauren came to the hospital with him, but was Madison there too? And, if so, would she be there on Saturday night?

Veronica stopped at Cho's Pizza before going to the hospital. She didn't know if the Mackenzies ate already, but food not from the cafeteria would probably be a welcome relief. She got two pies, soda, garlic knots and asked for paper plates and cups. When she arrived at the hospital, she followed Logan's lead and used the valet service. It was easier than trying to find a spot and haul the food through the parking lot.

Dick was alone in the waiting room. "Ronnie."

She slid the boxes of pizza on the table and put down the bottle of soda. "Where is everyone?"

"I convinced them to go home; told them we should stay in shifts and said I'd call them if anything happened."

"And that worked?"

He shrugged. "I think Sam agreed just to get Natalie some sleep."

"You look like you could use some sleep too."

"Nah, I'm good."

"Pizza?" She opened the box, put two slices on a paper plate and passed it to him. "How's she doing?"

"The swelling is going down, which they say is good, but they're worried about additional clots so they put her in compression stockings."

"She's going to be really pissed they made her wear stockings."

That earned her a half smile. "We'll keep it on the down low." He wolfed down the two slices of pizza and helped himself to another one. "Thanks for the food Rons, I was starving." Dick eyed her belly. "Aren't you eating?"

"I just ate dinner with Logan."

"And? Remember, I've seen pregnant Veronica eat."

"Wow, you must be really tired." She took two slices of pizza and sat at the table with him. "I think that's the first time you've called me Veronica like ever."

"That's what your friends call you…and we're not really that, am I right?"

His statement echoed her thoughts from the other night. No, they weren't really friends, but it seemed they were permanent fixtures in each other's lives; first through Logan and now, apparently, Mac. Instead of addressing the issue, she asked, "So you and Mac are dating again?"

"I don't date, Ronnie." His smile didn't reach his eyes or sync up with the words that came next. "I'm too fucked up for relationships."

Veronica looked around the empty waiting room and took in his disheveled appearance. "But you're here."

"Because she's my friend and I have exactly two of those." He held up two fingers to emphasize the point. "If it was Logan in there, in a coma, I would be here too."

That was yet another hypothetical she didn't want to contemplate. "Friendships are relationships." At his blank expression, she continued. "You've been a good friend to Logan." She'd never realized how good a friend until she read Logan's journal. "So you shouldn't say you're too fucked up- you can change." Veronica frowned. Dick _had_ changed. "What I mean is—"

"Don't sweat it Ronnie; I understand." He put down his empty plate and took a long swallow of his soda. "So…Duncan Kane's back in town" —his gaze was shrewd and appraising— "how's that going?"

The question irked her. "I don't know Dick- maybe you should ask Duncan."

"That's not what I meant."

_No shit_. His question had little to do with Duncan and _everything_ to do with Logan; specifically, how Duncan's return was affecting their marriage. Veronica resented both the underlying assumption and the intrusion. She frowned. _Am I being unfair?_ Logan was his friend and, even though he didn't have a _reason_ to be concerned, he did have the right to look out for him. After all, _Dick_ was the one who had to pick up the pieces when she left Neptune without so much as a goodbye. "Things are fine."

He nodded. "You know Logan loves you, right? I mean like beyond everything else, beyond anyone else- you get what I'm saying?"

It made her think of her earlier conversation with Logan about Duncan: _'I know things now that I didn't know back then and I don't like how he treats you.'_ It shouldn't really be surprising to her; Logan had been defending her ever since their kiss at the Camelot. He'd made it clear from the start of their relationship, _if you have a problem with Veronica, you're pretty much dead to me._ Dick was right. Logan would _always_ choose her; always put her first. "I love him too."

_Am I really having a serious conversation with Dick? Maybe the elevator was a wormhole and I'm in that Mac-Madison alternate universe_. Their relationship consisted of Dick making stupid and inappropriate comments while she rolled her eyes and insulted him. This mature and serious side of Dick was like the Loch Ness Monster; its existence was hinted at and glimpsed occasionally by others, but it remained mostly undiscovered and hidden from view. _Especially my view_. "You should go home and get some sleep."

"I will when Ryan gets back." He helped himself to another slice of pizza. "Why are you out so late anyway; isn't it past your curfew?"

There was the familiar jeering tone; Veronica relaxed. "_Logan_ is the one with a curfew."

"But only when he hangs out with me, right?"

"Well you know what they say about the bad apple spoiling the bunch."

Dick grinned. "That's me, rotten to the core."

Opening the garlic knots, she popped one in her mouth and studied Dick. "Have you seen Madison lately? Is she still in Neptune?"

He laughed. "I love how your mind works Ronnie. All this talk of bad apples and being rotten and _you_ think of Madison." Dick shook his head. "I haven't seen her, but she's around. She's never going to leave Neptune- these are her people."

_Rich, shallow, small-minded_. "So she hasn't been here to visit Mac?"

His look of surprise was answer enough. "Why would Madison care about Mac?" Veronica didn't know if he was implying that Madison wouldn't care about _anybody_ or if she was inferring that because of her own feelings on the subject. "Are you asking because her sister was here?"

_Sure, let's go with that_. She nodded. "Were you able to get guards for Mac's room?"

"Yeah, Logan gave me a number- ex-Seals or some such shit. They were here first thing this morning; two guys at her door and two others roaming the halls." His gaze pinned her to the chair. "You really think someone tried to kill her?"

"Her or Lisa, but it definitely wasn't an accident." Veronica stood. "Any word on when I can see her?"

"Not until they move her out of ICU, which won't happen until they wake her up." Veronica inclined her head and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Dick shrugged. "A week, ten days? The doctors are slippery fuckers; they don't want to commit themselves with a straight answer."

"Bastards." She glanced at the clock. It was almost eight and time to meet Weevil. "I've got to go; call me if there's any change."

"Will do, Ronniekins."

"You know I hate that name even more than Ronnie, right?"

"Yep."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag. "Don't choke on the garlic knots Dick." His laughter followed her through the door.

Weevil was already waiting for her in front of the hospital. He'd taken up smoking since his divorce much to the chagrin of _everyone_, but at this moment the parking attendant was particularly distressed. He was alternately staring at Weevil and then the No Smoking sign affixed to the building, but he wasn't saying anything. The smirk on Weevil's face and the way he was blowing smoke directly at the disgruntled valet said he was enjoying the man's discomfort.

"Don't be an asshole; put that out," Veronica reprimanded.

Weevil grinned at her, stubbed out the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and tossed it in the garbage can. "All he had to do was ask."

"All you had to do was read." She gave the valet her ticket, waited until he scurried away and turned to Weevil. "Must you scare the children?"

"A new pair of underwear and he'll be fine." He frowned at her. "He deserved it; _assumed_ I was part of the night maintenance crew and told me to use the back entrance."

"Ah Neptune, there's no place like home." The valet hurried back with the car—_probably eager to get rid of Weevil_ — and gave Veronica a look of disapproval at her choice of companion. She flipped him off and Weevil chuckled. "It's times like this when I miss my taser."

"No Mr. Sparky?"

She shook her head. "It's Heckler and Koch now, but he wasn't worth the lead."

"And you call me the scary one?"

"I didn't actually shoot him, did I?" It wasn't a long drive, but it was long enough for her to run through entry scenarios. The last time she broke into the garage all it took was waiting for the guard to be on the far side of building and a crowbar for the door. She was hoping the intervening years would be kind to her and there were no major security upgrades, but just in case, she'd brought her tools.

"How's Mac doing?"

"Still in the coma; they're saying a week, maybe ten days, before they wake her up and then we can visit." _And I can find out what she learned at Kane Software_.

"Not an accident?"

It was probably a bad idea to tell him her suspicions before he had a chance to look at the car; she didn't want it influencing what he saw. "I could be wrong," she hedged.

"Yeah and it could also snow tomorrow."

"It's happened before." Both the snow and her being wrong, of course the being wrong part happened way more frequently than the snow. "Keep an open mind and tell me what you think. I promise not to shoot you if you disagree with me."

"There you go talking about shooting again- are you sure they gave you a gun permit?"

"I need a permit?" —she dropped her jaw in mock surprise— "Who knew."

As they approached the garage, she slowed down. The warehouse was now surrounded by a high chain-link fence and the entire space was illuminated by flood lights. She turned the corner. The lot adjacent to the one she wanted was the actual impound lot filled with vehicles towed for parking violations. A security office sat at its entrance. Veronica tapped the brakes and peered through the window. No guard was visible, but that probably meant he was making rounds.

She completed the circuit of the lot, killed the headlights and parked. There were enough shadows around the perimeter to protect them from view while they cut through the fence, but they would be totally exposed between the fence and the warehouse. It was an industrial section of town, which meant no neighbors to spy on them. She surveyed the other buildings. They were all dark and none of them seemed to have any security patrols or cameras pointed in their direction. She hit the button for the interior lights so they wouldn't come on when they opened their doors.

"I'll cut the fence, there." Veronica pointed to the section of chain-link that would put them closest to the door. "You go watch the guard shack- when he returns to his post, we'll go in."

He paused with his hand on the door. "Want to take my picture now or later? Here's Uncle Weevil at your first break-in" —he pointed at her stomach— "you know, for the baby book."

She rolled her eyes. "Just make sure there are no dogs."

Grinning, he slipped out the car. He kept to the far side of the street and made his way toward the front of the lot. Veronica gave him a five minute head start before retrieving her duffel bag and bolt cutters from the trunk. Pulling on a pair of thick gloves, she quietly lowered the trunk and jogged across the street. She located the vertical wire and made five quick cuts, about a foot apart. Using her gloved hands, she grabbed the cut hunk of wire and screwed it back like a corkscrew. It wound its way off the mesh creating a large enough hole for them to slip through.

It didn't take long for him to reappear. "We're good- no dogs, no cameras."

Shoving the bolt cutter into her bag, she removed the crowbar and slung the bag across her body. She slipped through the hole and waited for him to join her. Once they were both through, they ran. Veronica used the pry bar to open the door and hurried inside with Weevil on her heels. No alarm sounded when she cracked the door, but most alarms had a forty-five second delay. She clicked on her flashlight to scan the door frame for wires or sensors and found neither. "I think we're okay."

The cavernous space was divided into four separate bays- all of them empty save for two. One held disassembled parts of what, judging from the grill, was once a truck and in the other occupied bay was the Toyota. Veronica moved the beam of light over the wreck. The sight of the twisted metal made the gorge rise up the back of her throat and she swallowed it down to keep from vomiting. It only vaguely resembled a car. The driver's door and rear panel were completely crushed into the passenger seat. It wasn't surprising that Lisa died on the scene; what was shocking was that Mac survived.

She handed Weevil his own flashlight and watched as he circled the car. He took his time; first studying the buckled driver's side and then the passenger side. Dropping to the ground, he shimmied his way under the engine. Veronica didn't know what he was looking for, but she figured the conversation could wait until he was done. He climbed out from beneath the car. The hood was completely gone; ripped off either in the accident itself or when it went over the guardrail. Weevil ran the light across the engine, pausing at various points and leaning forward for a closer inspection. Then he moved to the rear of the car.

Squatting by the trunk, he shined his flashlight over the bumper. "Different color paint." Veronica moved closer to see what he was talking about. "Here." He directed the beam of light at the speck of blue paint transfer. Weevil moved to the driver's side and pointed out the red paint transfer that Norris mentioned. "I'm guessing someone hit them from behind first- made the car spin out and then they got t-boned."

Sandwiched between two cars- the one coming up behind them and the other approaching from the front would leave them no possible escape route. "How did it go over the guardrail?"

Holding his hand out, palm downward, he demonstrated. "The point of impact here would tilt the car at this angle." He titled his hand with the pinkie side elevated. "Then as they continued to get pushed, the car would go up and over." He flipped his hand over so his palm was now facing upwards.

"Anything else?"

Weevil shook his head. "Hard to tell; there's a lot of damage, but it doesn't look like there was any tampering with the brake lines."

"Let's get out of here before the guard makes another pass."

They retraced their steps. Veronica used a few zip ties to secure the chain-link. It wouldn't hold up under close inspection, but from a distance you couldn't tell that the fence had been cut. Neither of them said anything else until they were back in the car. "You were right, not an accident."

"I wish I would've been wrong this time."

Weevil nodded. "I know I don't need to say it, but I'm gonna anyway- be careful, V; whoever staged this accident wasn't playing around."

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Come on, you know I can't resist that head tilt thing."

She grinned. "Don't feel bad; there's no man alive who can resist my charming personality and sunny disposition."

"I don't even know how you say things like that with a straight face."

"Practice."

Weevil directed her through the hospital parking lot to the space with his motorcycle. "Call me if you need me."

Once he was on his bike, she turned the car around and headed home. She took the long route, making unnecessary turns and checking her rearview mirror to make sure she wasn't followed. When she was sure that she was alone, she drove to the house. Logan left the porch light on for her. She turned it off, threw the deadbolt on the front door and reset the alarm. Then she moved through the house checking the locks on the rest of the doors.

A line of light under her bedroom door told her that Logan was still awake. She peeked in on Wyatt first. The baby was splayed across the bed on her back; thumb in her mouth and Cuddles tucked in the crook of her arm. Veronica kissed her forehead and fixed the blanket. "I love you sweet pea."

She exited the room, put the baby gate across the doorway and pushed open her own bedroom door. Logan lowered the book he was reading.

"You didn't have to wait up for me, but" —she stripped off her jeans— "I'm glad you did." He remained silent and watched her get undressed. She pulled off her shirt and tossed it on the chair. Now only in her bra and briefs, she waited for the suggestive comment and the rakish grin, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on her face. _Something's wrong._ Veronica crawled up the bed. "Whatcha reading?" Taking the book from his hands, she glanced at the cover— _The Sun Also Rises_— and dropped it on the nightstand. "Not really a sleep inducer unless read in Mrs. Murphy's monotone."

_Still no response_. She swung her leg over him; her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist. Reflexively, his hands cradled her hips. He studied her face for a minute and finally asked, "Are you worried?"

Veronica frowned. "Can you narrow that down for me? Worried about global warming, the rising price of—"

"Worried about me?"

She sat on his stomach. "What's wrong?"

"Earlier when you asked where I would score coke- is it…are you worried that since I've left the Navy, I may—"

Veronica put her hand over his mouth. "No. I told you it was for that case. Have you been thinking about this all night?" He nodded. "Logan" —she took her hand away from his mouth— "why didn't you say something earlier? I would've stayed home and we could've talked about it."

Tilting his head back, he stared at the ceiling. "How did it go with Weevil? Were you able to see the car?"

"Why are you trying to change the subject?"

"What else is there to say? I got it- you're not worried and it was entirely about the trophy wife case."

"That was convincing." She climbed off both him and the bed. "Good thing I didn't stay home to talk- it would've been a wasted evening." Opening his dresser drawer, she pulled out his _Fly Navy_ tee-shirt and tugged it over her head.

"Just yesterday you stood in our kitchen and told me you were worried about us- worried that I was unhappy and missing the Navy. Or was that a different tiny blonde?"

Slamming the drawer shut, she whirled around to face him. "That has nothing to do with this."

"Really Veronica? Because it sounds like the _exact_ same thing to me." He sat up and swung his legs off the mattress, but he didn't leave the bed. He just sat there staring blankly at the wall with his fingers curled around the edge of the mattress and his shoulders rigid.

"I thought you missed _flying_ and were maybe a little bored. I didn't think, shit Logan's left the Navy, guess that means he's going to start drinking and doing drugs again. That thought never once crossed my mind and I resent the accusation."

"It wasn't an accusation." The fight drained out of him and his shoulders slumped. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head. "Things are different now; _I'm_ different and I would never—"

"Stop." Veronica crossed the room to stand in front of him. Gently, she stroked the back of his head. "I'm not worried about that, not even a little bit. It's just that you loved the Navy, Logan. It gave your life direction, _purpose_ and you walked away."

"For my daughter."

"I know." She kissed the top of his head. "I don't want you to regret anything."

"I want to be a good father." He raised his face. "That's my purpose, the thing that's most important to me." His hand molded itself around the curve of her belly. "Please believe me when I tell you this is who I am now and what I want is to be here with my family."

"I believe you." She cupped his face. "Now believe me- the only reason I asked you about the coke was because I was hoping you'd help me."

He arched a brow. "Does Veronica Mars want me to play detective?"

"Well… it is kind of sexy when you do."

"Sexy?" He slid his hands up her thighs and cradled her hips.

"Mmm-hmm." Placing her knees on either side of him, she lowered herself onto his lap. "This communication thing is exhausting- no wonder I avoided it all those years."

He grinned as his fingers toyed with the lacy edge of her boyshorts and then dipped beneath them to stroke her skin. "If you're tired, we should get you right to bed."

"Probably a good idea." Veronica ran her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. She bent her head and feathered tiny kisses along his jawbone.

Lifting her up, Logan twisted his torso to lay her on the mattress. "You know, that's my tee shirt." At her puzzled expression, he tugged the hem. "And I'd like it back now."

She smiled. "That could be arranged."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"It looks like Wyatt is still sleeping- I wonder when she'll wake up." Veronica knelt next to the bed and stroked her hair. "I'd really like her to get up and play with Mommy." A little giggle parted Wyatt's lips, but she kept her eyes firmly screwed shut. "I've got breakfast ready." Veronica pressed her ear against the baby's stomach. "What do you think Mr. Tummy? Are you hungry enough to wake up Wyatt for our pajama picnic?"

Her eyes popped open. "Jama picnic?"

"Yep." Veronica stood. She did a slow turn to model her flannel pajamas and held up her foot to show off her stuffed elephant slippers. Mommy and me living room picnics were something she started while Logan was on his last deployment as a way for Wyatt to feel special and secure- a quiet morning with no interruptions for just the two of them and after yesterday's mini-meltdown, something that was totally needed.

She held out her arms to be carried. Veronica picked her up and checked her pull-up diaper. _Completely dry_. "Do you want to use your potty first?"

"Okay."

They were trying to be very relaxed about the potty-training; making sure she was ready without any pushing or pressure from them. Especially with the new baby coming, they didn't want her to feel like she wasn't their baby anymore and that they were forcing her to grow up. They went to the bathroom together. "Good job, sweet pea. Now we have to wash our hands."

Wyatt climbed on her step stool and held out her hands for the soap. Veronica squirted a bit of organic liquid soap into each of their palms. "Sing, Mama."

Veronica smiled. "ABC's or the hand washing song?"

"Wash, wash."

Covering the baby's hands with her own, she rubbed them and sang the _wash wash_ song. Veronica dried their hands. "Ready for breakfast?"

Wyatt nodded. "Cheese?"

"Yes, little mouse; I put it in your eggs- ham too." They were individual omelets baked inside heart-shaped muffin tins. There were also waffle sticks, fruit kebabs and banana muffins. "What do you think you're going to do today with Daddy?"

"Color…read 'tories."

"Does Daddy like to color?" A blanket was already spread on the floor in front of the fireplace. She'd lit a fire to keep them toasty and tossed pillows around for them to lie on. Veronica sat down and emptied the picnic basket.

"Yes," it was an emphatic assurance that Logan did indeed like to color. Veronica wasn't so sure about that, but she knew he would do it if that's what Wyatt wanted. "Mama too?"

"Not today, sweet pea; I have to go to work, remember?" She needed to visit Max and see if she could enlist his help with the investigation. Last night after the successful and mutually satisfying negotiations over the tee-shirt return, Logan agreed to stay home with the baby today. He also agreed to make himself scarce this morning —surfing with Dick— so she could have some alone time with Wyatt. "But when I get home from work we can finger-paint in the bathtub, okay?"

That wiped the frown from her face. She loved to paint in the tub. Veronica cut dish sponges into shapes and they used them to make colorful art on the tile walls. "Where Daddy?"

"He went surfing, but he'll be home in a little while." She passed her a waffle stick and opened a Tupperware of syrup. "What shape do you think this is?"

Wyatt studied it for a minute. "A 'tangle!"

"That's right. We have rectangles and hearts." Veronica held up one of the heart omelets to show her. "What other shapes do we have?"

The question was enough to get Wyatt to tell her the shape of every piece of food before she ate it. Veronica moved away the waffles and slid the fruit closer. Meals were like a shell game. She shuffled the food around until Wyatt ate a little from each food group; hide the drink, give her eggs, push the fruit, bring back the waffles and return the drink. When she offered her another strawberry, the baby shook her head. "Bocks now?"

Veronica smiled. "Blocks now."

Wyatt abandoned the blanket, came back with her alphabet blocks and dumped them on the floor. They played their version of _Going on a Picnic_; the baby would hand her a block and, whatever the letter, Veronica would think of some outrageous thing to bring on their picnic: _we're going on a picnic and we're going to bring a penguin_. Then Wyatt would stack the blocks in a tower making it as tall as she could before it tumbled to the ground.

"I love having picnics with you." Veronica rubbed noses with her. "Mommy has something special for you- do you want to see it?"

An exaggerated nod was followed by an exclaimed— "Me!" —when she saw the book Veronica took from the basket; its cover was a picture of Wyatt from when Logan took her ice skating at the Hotel del Coronado. "Read, Mama."

"Come sit with me and we'll read it together." Wyatt scrambled across the blanket and onto her lap. As Veronica read the title, she moved her finger under the words so the baby could 'read' along. "Big Sister Wyatt by Mommy and Daddy." She opened the cover. The first page was a picture of a very pregnant Veronica. "My name is Wyatt and once upon a time, I was growing in a special place in Mommy's tummy." She tapped the picture. "That's you inside my tummy."

"Me?" Wyatt looked at the picture and then glanced at Veronica's stomach.

"Yes you." She kissed the top of her head. When they told Wyatt they were going to have another baby, her initial reaction was _'me baby'_ and that was it. Even after Veronica started to show, there were no other questions or discussions. It worried her- how Wyatt was going to handle another baby in the house and she was hoping this book would solve the problem.

The personalized story had photos of Wyatt throughout. It took them through her being born and what it was like when she was a baby; then it moved on to how she grew, learned to walk and all the hard things she could do now that she was bigger like swimming and playing blocks. "Now Mommy has another baby growing in her tummy and I'm going to be a big sister."

"Read 'gain."

"What are we reading? And can Daddy read too?" Logan dropped to his knees on the blanket. His hair was still wet and he smelled like sunshine and ocean. He kissed her temple and then the top of Wyatt's head.

Veronica grinned. "I don't know Daddy can you read?"

"Maybe, if the words are small and there are enough pictures."

Wyatt took the book from her hands and held it out for Logan. "Bout me 'n baby."

"Oh?' He arched a brow at Veronica. "When did you do this?"

"A few weeks ago- Mac found this website." She frowned.

Logan smoothed his finger along the worry lines on her forehead. "She'll be okay, Veronica." _Is he talking about Mac, Wyatt, or both?_ Kissing her nose, he sat down next to them and started flipping through the pages of the book.

"Too fast." Wyatt took it away from him and went back to the beginning. It took her a very long time to move through the book, pausing at each picture to point and tell Daddy what she was doing in them. "Me 'wimming…bocks."

Logan smiled. "Someone likes reading about herself."

"Wonder where she gets _that_ from."

Placing his palm on his chest, he gave her a wounded expression. "Certainly not from me- I'm the epitome of humble."

"Now who needs a dictionary?"

"Still you" —he tapped her nose— "because za is a perfectly acceptable Scrabble word."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're a drunk frat boy who loves pizza."

"Speaking of things drunk frat boys love- aren't you supposed to go meet with the porn king?"

She did go need to meet with Max, but she didn't want to leave just yet. Wrapping her arms around Wyatt, she gave her a big hug. "Do you like your book sweet pea?" Her head bobbed. "I love you."

"Me love Mama too."

"_I_ love Mama too," Logan amended.

Missing that the correction was for her and not him stating his feelings, she nodded. "Me know, Daddy" —she pointed to Veronica— "Mama, kiss kiss fish."

Logan smiled. "I know what that means." Leaning over, he gave Veronica a G-rated, Wyatt-approved quick peck. Before he could move away, she buried her fingers in his hair and held him in place for a proper kiss. "So demanding," he murmured.

"Me or your daughter?"

"Both of you." Logan slid his hand over her belly. "Probably all three of you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"

"Not me- I'm a happy man." Running a hand through his hair, he scratched his scalp. "A happy man in need of a shower- do I have time?"

Veronica nodded. "Wy and I are going to snuggle here by the fire for a little cozy time." As she spoke, she stretched out on the pillows with the baby cuddled next to her. She took the picture book from Wyatt and went back to the beginning. "When you were in my tummy, Daddy used to read stories to you."

"Moo Baa La La La?" Wyatt rested her head on Veronica's shoulder.

"No, not that one." She smiled. Logan was still standing there watching the two of them. "I thought you were going to shower?"

"Shower, right." Reluctantly, he took a few steps back letting his gaze linger on the two of them until he reached the hall when he finally had to turn around.

Veronica read the book to Wyatt again, but this time she told her the story behind each of the photos. By the time she made it to the end, Logan was back from his shower and it was time to start her day. "Okay, my turn to shower- your turn to read."

She started to hand him the book and he held up a different one- _You Are My I Love You_. "I brought my own reading material." They switched places and it was her turn to linger as he snuggled with Wyatt. "This is the story I used to read to you in Mommy's tummy."

After he read the title to her, she placed her tiny hands on his cheeks and kissed his nose. "Me love Daddy too."

Veronica sighed. When Logan first asked her to take a break from field work and stay at home with Wyatt, she balked. She was afraid playing housewife until he got his discharge from the Navy would be an eighteen-month sentence of mind-numbing boredom, but it wasn't. She loved being a mom, spending time with her family, and building a life with Logan.

Having this to come home to, having _them_ to come home to made it easier to go out and face the ugly in the world. It used to be her dad. When the bad things happened out there, she could always go home and feel safe with her father. Veronica didn't know when that started to shift, maybe that first day at the Camelot, but it did shift and now her safe place was here with Logan and Wyatt. This was her sanctuary and some days it was hard to leave. _Like now_.

Logan had reached the _'I am your wait, you are my wiggle'_ page in the book and Wyatt jumped up to wiggle her body. Veronica grinned. The next lines involved the words _chocolate cake_ and, if the baby had her mind set on acting out the story, she would be looking for a slice in three…two…one. "Cake!"

He shook his head. "We can have cake later after dinner." Wyatt crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. Part of her wanted to stick around and watch Logan lose the cake battle, but she needed to get ready. A plaintive _'but Daddy'_ followed Veronica down the hall making her chuckle.

She rushed through her shower, got dressed and stopped in her office to collect Lisa's files. When she returned to the living room, there was no cake. The two of them were lying on their stomachs coloring and sharing a banana muffin. "Where's the C.A.K.E.? Did she eat it already?"

"No need to sound so surprised- I do know how to say no."

Veronica gave him a skeptical look. "To me maybe, but to her?" She felt the baby's forehead. "Not sick, but obviously off her game."

"For that remark" —he smirked— "I should take her to get a P.U.P.P.Y."

"Not without me."

His brows shot up in surprise. "Did you just agree to get one?" Logan got up on his knees and felt Veronica's forehead. "Not sick, but obviously off your game."

Wyatt knew when they started spelling they were talking about her and she was staring at them with a puzzled expression trying to figure out what they were saying. Veronica knelt down to give her goodbye kisses. "Have fun with Daddy today and you" —she turned to Logan— "don't do anything you'll regret."

He just grinned at her. "What- no goodbye kiss for me?"

She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Be good."

His, "I always am," was accompanied by a suggestive leer.

Rolling her eyes, she got off the floor and grabbed her messenger bag. She shoved the files inside, collected her cell from the charger and took the keys for the BMW. Wyatt was concentrating on her coloring book and seemed unconcerned with Veronica's leaving. She hesitated at the open door, "I'll be home in time for dinner and bathtub finger-painting."

With no pause in her scribbling, the baby said, "Bye-bye, Mama," and Logan nodded- a reassuring _everything will be fine_, nod. She smiled, made the _call me_ gesture and left the house.

The address from Netrotica's website was only a post office box— _probably to protect the actors_ —but her search engine provided her with the location of the corporate office. She plugged the address into the GPS and headed downtown.

The office was in a fourteen-story building designated a historical landmark. It was not what she was expecting. Instead of cheap and tawdry, the building was a Romanesque Revival with graceful semi-circular arches on the ground floor windows and an elaborate belt course set between the floors of the grey brick façade. It was a style widely used for churches and the irony wasn't lost on her. _Welcome to the church of porn_. She cruised past the building to its attached parking garage and found a spot.

A security guard was positioned behind a high desk set in the center of the lobby and a glass directory was on his left. The grey porcelain tile floor mimicked the buildings exterior in a running-bond pattern. It was an open space of red brick walls and exposed wood beams. She crossed to the front desk, her eyes scanning the directory. Netrotica didn't have a suite; they had _floors_\- two of them. The guard watched her approach. "Help you?"

Veronica smiled at him. "I'm here to see Max Rosen; he's with Net—"

"Fourteenth floor." Stern disapproval etched itself into the lines of his face and mixed with disappointment. She wondered how many daughters he had at home because only the father of a teenage girl could achieve that look; it made her want to apologize and swear never to do it again.

Her murmured, "Thanks," netted a sad headshake from him and she hurried her way into the elevator before he could launch into a lecture.

It was a rapid ascent and the doors opened directly into the office space. In contrast to the SoHo loft feel of the downstairs lobby, this was sixties mod straight out of an Austin Powers movie. The receptionist was behind a desk made of lime green steel poles with a smoked glass surface. Veronica had to suppress the urge to greet her with a _'yeah, baby.' _

The woman eyeballed Veronica, her gaze coming to rest on her stomach. "I don't think we're looking for pregnant actresses, but if you want an audition- go down one flight and see Maizy." She waved toward a staircase tucked away in the corner.

"Uh, I'm not …is that really a thing? Pregnancy porn?"

She smirked. "Everything's a thing- pregnant, skinny, fat and don't even get me started on the fetishes: foot, yiff, dwarfs, felch—"

"I don't want to audition." _And I don't want you to finish that sentence_.

"Everybody has to audition." This time her appraisal was more thorough than a guy at a single's bar and Veronica felt like she'd just gone through one of those revealing airport scanners. _She probably knows my bra and cup size now_.

"I'm here to see Max Rosen."

"Do you have an appointment?" There was a challenge in her tone; it said _I know you don't so don't bother to lie_.

"Just tell him Veronica Mars is here to see him."

Her face tightened and she pursed her lips like she was going to refuse the request, but then she shrugged. Pressing down the intercom button, she left it on speaker. _Probably hoping it will embarrass me when he refuses_. "Max, there's a woman here to see you, says her name is Veronica Mars."

"Veronica? From Hearst? Uh…tell her to wait; I'll be right out."

There was no suppressing the smug smile she gave the receptionist. _Look at me making friends_. She turned away and contemplated the waiting room furniture. There were two orange tongue chairs, which she would never get out of and a purple serpentine couch. Veronica perched on the edge of the sofa to wait for Max. He didn't keep her waiting long.

"I had to see this for myself." He still wore his black frame glasses, but his hair was longer now; it was parted on the side and flecked with grey as was his closely trimmed beard. "It really _is_ you."

She held up her hands, palms facing him and splayed her fingers. "Surprise."

Max moved in to hug her and paused. An awkward second passed between them. Theirs wasn't an _'old friends who hug hello'_ type of relationship; yet a handshake seemed too formal. To cover his miscalculation, he took a step back and clasped his hands together. "So…how've you been?"

"Good." Veronica looked around the office. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"Right, sure; come with me." He led her down a long hallway. One side was completely windowed with views of the street below and the other side was a line of closed doors. The one at the end of the hall stood open and he walked through it. His office was more sedate than the waiting room décor. A minimalist glass desk and two red visitor's chairs were the only furnishings. A large computer monitor equipped with a wireless keyboard and mouse sat off to the side of his desk along with two glass block frames.

He waited for her to sit before dropping into a red ergonomic desk chair. There were framed splash pages from various comic books adorning the walls and a large Watchmen movie promo was behind his desk. "Dave Gibbons, right?"

His eyes widened. "You remember that?"

She shrugged. "Porn, huh?"

Max smiled. "It's a billion dollar business."

Now that she was here, she didn't know how to begin to ask for his help. "I need a favor. Well, not really a favor, I'll pay you for your time."

"I'm not exactly looking for a job."

Veronica frowned. "I'm working with my dad again at Mars Investigations and there's this case…I need someone to do a little computer work for me."

He hesitated before asking, "What kind of computer work?"

_The highly illegal, can send you to jail kind_. "A few background checks, patent research and… I'd like to see if someone actually filed an application for naturalization." His brows knitted together and he just stared at her. "You know- naturalization to become a U.S. citizen."

Duncan said the Soongs were here on Visas and applying for citizenship because the _'Chinese government still kind of supports the idea of collective ownership.' _Maybe China felt Smartpaper belonged to them. What if the Soongs were only using Kane Software for financing and planned to take the technology back to Hong Kong?

In her computer searches on espionage there were hundreds of results involving the Chinese government. The United States had named China as the source of the most aggressive cyber spying, doing things from stealing information on solar panels to launching malware attacks on Google. Foreign spies targeting U.S. companies were not going to get off with a slap on the wrist and high fines- they would face indictments. So where exactly did the Soongs loyalty lie?

"Those aren't public record." Pushing up his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Don't you still keep in touch with Mac?"

"She can't help me with this."

"Better if I go to jail than her- is that it?"

"No." She shook her head. "Mac was in a car accident; she's in a coma."

He fell back in his chair. "What happened?"

If she told him someone tried to kill Mac because of this case, it might scare him off and make him refuse to help. Or, it might make him eager to offer his assistance. _The truth or a lie?_ It wouldn't be fair to keep him in the dark. "She was with one of my employees, Lisa and somebody forced them off the road; I'm trying to find out who it was."

"And you need my help." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.

Veronica didn't want to directly ask him to hack a government database. Hacking was a federal crime and while she didn't have any experience with federal criminal defense, words like _solicitation_ and _inchoate offense_ were running through her mind. She hedged. "I can't access the same information you can."

"I could get in a lot of trouble for this, Veronica."

"Says the guy who ran a cheating ring from his dorm room."

Max rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "I have more to lose now."

A thriving and successful business —her gaze settled on the glass block frames— possibly a family. He was right; there was more at stake for him this time. "If this wasn't about Mac, I wouldn't ask."

"Why me? Why not just hire someone?"

"I need someone…unconnected to me- it's safer that way." The, _for both of us,_ was implied.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled and leaned forward. "I'm not as good as Mac, but tell me what you need."

Pulling out the files, she sorted them in order of priority. She passed him Lisa's personnel file. "Mac did a background check on her, but she only went back five years. I'd like you to go back further and dig a little deeper- everything you can get."

"This is the woman in the car with Mac?"

Veronica nodded. _Time to deliver the final piece of warning_. "She died in the accident and I want to know if she was the intended target." Max blanched at the information, but he didn't rescind his offer of help, which she took as a good sign.

There was no need to give him the full files on the Soongs. Lisa already had Mac do a check on them and the only thing missing from their files was the Visa and Naturalization applications. Veronica gave him the pertinent details he'd need to get that information and then she handed him the file on Rick Abbott. Seeing the notation, _ask Mac tomorrow_, in his desk calendar had moved the head of Kane Software's R&amp;D department to the top of her list of suspects.

The two unlabeled files she'd taken from Lisa's desk were at the bottom of the pile. Opening the first, she found a bunch of newspaper clippings. Veronica flipped through them. The headlines were varied, but they all seemed to involve cocaine, drug trafficking and Mexican drug cartels. _Research_. She put the file back in her bag and opened the second one. It contained a surveillance photo of two women having lunch; one was the trophy wife, but she wasn't the focus of the picture, Lisa had zoomed in on her companion. Unless they were sprinkling cocaine on their Salade Niçoise, it didn't look like a buy, so what was Lisa's interest in this lunch date?


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Max promised to get in touch with her as soon as he had her information and in return she promised to keep him up-to-date on Mac's condition. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Four theories—Smartpaper, Lisa's past, Lisa's other cases or Mac's past — and Veronica had no idea which one was right. It was said that all motives for murder could be boiled down to gain, revenge, elimination, jealousy and blood lust. When viewed through those criteria, the least likely scenario was Mac's past.

There was no life insurance policy or hefty sum of money waiting to be inherited upon Mac's demise so financial gain was out as a motive. And, unless someone was still pissed about their purity test scores, there was nothing Mac ever did to warrant revenge. She wasn't standing in the way of anyone getting something or someone they wanted so there was no need for elimination. A blood lust killer wouldn't have chosen a car accident as the means of murder; they would've selected something more up close and personal. That only left jealousy.

_Madison Sinclair_. The name hovered over her thoughts. _My old nemesis guilty of murder? Sign me up_. Seeing Madison arrested and sentenced to life in prison would probably result in the sound of a champagne cork popping. _Maybe some balloons and a cake too_. But it wasn't a very realistic option. From Madison's point of view, there would be no reason to be jealous of Mac. She'd probably thank whatever deity she believed in— _the god of designer handbags and shoes_ —that she was switched at birth. Being an 09er was her entire identity. How did Dick put it? _'These are her people.'_

Veronica frowned. Would finding out she was actually poor threaten that identity? Did she think eliminating Mac would keep the secret buried? _And what about the money now?_ Switched at birth plotlines were common in works of fiction, but they were rare in real life and she didn't know the details of the agreement between the Sinclairs and the Mackenzies. Did they legally adopt the others child? Was Mac entitled to inherit from the Sinclairs when they passed away?

Parents were under no legal obligation to leave their wealth to their children. They could _'cut them out of the Will'_ and leave all the money to the family's pet poodle, but did the Sinclairs make a provision in their Wills for Mac? An estate divided amongst three children would be a lot less than one split between two. Even if they didn't, could Mac make a claim against their estates and win? If Veronica with her law degree didn't know the answer to that question, Madison certainly wouldn't. _So not jealousy, but maybe both elimination and financial gain?_

Max was working on Lisa's background, Logan said he'd look through the trophy wife case while Wyatt was napping and Celeste's party was still four days away, which left her free to investigate the Sinclairs and check out Lisa's apartment. She also wanted to call Weevil.

"Two days in a row? What are we breaking into now? No, wait; don't tell me- Fort Knox? Area 51?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "We went to Neptune High do you really need more proof of alien life forms?"

Weevil chuckled. "Point taken, but hey the gold would be nice."

"Know what's nicer? Not spending the rest of our lives in supermax." She turned on the car and waited for the hands-free to connect. "Can you ask around the auto body shops and see if any blue or red cars have come in with front end damage?"

"Vee, those cars were probably chopped and sold for parts an hour after the accident."

"Haven't you ever heard the expression- leave no stone unturned?"

"Sure, it's right up there with fool's errand." He sighed. "I'll ask around."

"You'll ask your Uncle Angel and your cousin too?" They owned the salvage yard with the crusher capable of reducing cars to cubes. _And I'm back to thinking about Madison_.

"Yeah, I'll let you know on Friday- we still on for bowling?"

"Fun Bowl at six…and thanks, Weevil."

"You owe me two now."

"Since you're so good at it, you can keep score on Friday." She disconnected the call and made the left on University. Lisa's apartment building was on the right hand side of the road about halfway down the street. The complex was two dark gray stone buildings that sat side-by-side with a small alley between them. She'd never been inside, but she'd once dropped Lisa off after an all-night surveillance. A red curb out front barred stopping, standing and parking. Veronica drove past the building in search of a spot.

Once she was parked, she used her cell to access her search engine and locate an address for Lauren Sinclair. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the same one as her parents and Veronica was not about to make a surprise visit to their house. Copying down the phone number, she exited the search and called Lauren. The phone was answered on the first ring, "Hello?"

It was a soft greeting. Definitely not Madison and the voice sounded too young to be Ellen Sinclair. "Lauren?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, this is Veronica Mars. I'm not sure if you remember me, but I went to school with your sister." _Both the real one and the fake one_.

"I remember…has something happened to Mac?" The way Lauren's mind jumped to Mac made Veronica curious. _Was it just because she knew I was friends with Mac or because I mentioned the word sister?_

"She's still in the coma, but the doctor says she's making progress."

"That's good, I guess." She paused for a beat before asking, "Were you calling to talk to Madison?"

_Not even for all the gold in Fort Knox_. "No, actually I wanted to talk to you. Are you free this afternoon? We can meet at Baja Bettys on University for a late lunch?" The restaurant wasn't far from Lisa's apartment; she'd passed it on her way here.

"Uh…yeah, sure, I can meet you."

At her agreement, Veronica did a fast time calculation. "Would an hour from now be okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

After confirming the location of the restaurant, Veronica hung up and dropped the cell in her purse. An hour gave her ample time to search Lisa's apartment and get to Lauren, but she doubted it was long enough to figure out an approach for the ensuing conversation. _Hey, do you know Mac is your birth sister?_ If it was anyone else, she might go for a lie. Possibly suggesting that Mac needed a transplant or blood transfusions, but she didn't want to take that route with Lauren.

Lisa's apartment was in the first building; the one furthest away from Veronica's parking spot and right next door to a dog grooming boutique named BowWow. _If I was a different person, I might take that as a sign we should get a dog_. There was no lobby. The front door and mailboxes were tucked into a small recessed alcove. Hidden from street view and pedestrian traffic, it was the ideal setup for a push-in robbery. _Or, in my case, for picking locks_. She started with the mailbox labeled Watson.

The only envelopes were a _'you may already be a winner'_ sweepstakes scam and one without a postmark from a company called Hillcrest Management. It was sealed with a piece of tape and Veronica used her nail to break the seal. A single sheet of regular copy paper was Lisa's rent bill for next month. She stared at the contact information for the company, shrugged and then shoved both pieces of mail in her messenger bag.

Veronica tried the front door —_no need to pick an open door_— but it was locked. She put the hook pick in the middle of the deadbolt, pushed it to the top and pulled it out listening for the click. _Setting the pins_. Then she put the torsion wrench in at the bottom of the keyhole and placed the hook pick right on top of it. She wiggled the pick up and down as she slowly pulled it out; turned the torsion wrench and heard the deadbolt slide back. She grinned.

There were only four floors in the building. Lisa's apartment was on the third and she was out of breath by the time she finished climbing. She sat on the landing and rested her head against the banister. _What would it be like to find out your four-year-old wasn't actually yours?_ Her mind rebelled at the thought of having to give Wyatt away to another family. All of those memories, all of her firsts, belonged to her and Logan. Could they give up Wyatt or would they, like the Sinclairs and Mackenzies, decide to keep the daughter they loved? She made a mental note to go home and thank Logan for the ridiculously expensive, über-luxurious maternity suite that allowed a newborn Wyatt to never leave their sight.

Grabbing the handrail, she pulled herself up and approached Lisa's door. It wasn't like its counterpart across the landing. Instead of wood, Lisa's door was a nice solid metal inside a metal frame and there was an additional deadbolt. The extra lock slowed her down, but it didn't derail her plan. She pushed open the door and slipped into the apartment.

_An hour to search was an over-estimation_. The entire studio could be viewed from where she stood. The main room was painted a cheery periwinkle with white trim. A charcoal sofa bed was against the only solid wall and pillows in the same shade of periwinkle were spread across its back. Above the sofa hung four framed black and white photographs, which were all shots of various Chicago landmarks: the Sears Tower, Navy Pier, the Chicago Theater, and a shot of the bridges spanning the Chicago River. There was no coffee table —_easier to open the sofa bed_— but there were two end tables with drawers.

She hesitated. Viewing this search as _just a job_ was not actually compartmentalizing. That was a method used to reduce cognitive dissonance, but she wasn't holding two incompatible beliefs that needed separating. No, her defense mechanism of choice was intellectualization. _Avoid thinking of the emotional aspect of a situation and focus only on the intellectual component_. Lisa's death was a case to be solved. If she could focus on the clues and the investigation, then she could avoid thinking about her loss. _Stop the psychoanalysis Veronica and get to work_.

She moved to the closer of the two end tables. All the drawers contained clothing; bras in the first, underwear in the second, and socks in the third. She pulled and dumped each drawer so she could check its back and bottom- nothing. Returning the contents, she crossed to the second table and repeated the pattern. Again, all she found was clothing. This time, tee shirts and jeans.

There was no television set, but there was a stereo system with a turntable. It sat across from the sofa on an oak stand with a cabinet. Veronica opened the cabinet to reveal Lisa's record collection. One by one, she pulled out each album checking inside its jacket and looking at the record sleeves for notes. They were mostly blues albums: Charlie Parker, Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, John Lee Hooker and other artists she didn't recognize like Odie Payne and Willie Dixon. She put them back and turned her attention to the kitchen.

It was separated from the room by a Craftsman-style column divider painted white. The built-in provided shelves for the living room and was filled with books. Veronica shook them all out and found nothing but a bookmark. She searched through the kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator and the freezer and found nothing but dishes, utensils and food. The bathroom was next to the kitchen and like everything else was devoid of personal objects. Candles lined a shelf above her claw foot tub and there was a bottle of expensive bubble bath on the toilet tank along with an empty wineglass.

The only space left to search was a narrow closet next to the bathroom door. One side of the closet was shelving with towels, extra toilet paper, sheets for the sofa bed and two pillows. The other side had a bar for hanging clothes. Veronica recognized both outfits- a dark gray pantsuit Lisa wore for her job interview and a blue skirt, white blouse combination that she wore when she had to testify in a divorce proceeding last year. Kneeling on the floor, Veronica pulled out the shoes and felt around the floor of the closet. Her fingers hit a shoebox. _Please don't be more shoes_.

Not shoes, but nothing really personal either. The box contained her birth certificate, passport, copy of her lease, social security card and other papers. Veronica took the box with her and made sure to twist the button on the doorknob so the apartment would lock behind her.

_That was depressing_. All she learned about Lisa was her love of candlelight bubble baths, wine, reading and blues records. _I would listen to the blues too if I lived here_. There were no photo albums, keepsakes, or even pictures of her parents and brother.

Veronica put the shoebox in the trunk. She still had twenty minutes until it was time to meet with Lauren, but she was starving. It was way past lunch and the mini-omelets and waffle sticks from this morning were a distant memory. Leaving the car where it was, she walked the few blocks to the restaurant.

Green flag canopies protected the outside seating area from the sun, but there was a chill to the air and all of the tables were empty. Veronica went inside the cantina and waited at the hostess station to be seated. A large fake palm tree replete with fake coconuts towered behind the station separating it from the dining room. There were a couple of people at the bar on her left, but the restaurant seemed quiet. Veronica hoped it was just a natural lull between the lunch and dinner service and not due to the food.

She told the hostess she was meeting someone and asked for a table with a view of the door. The hostess sat her at one of the front side tables. Not wanting to squeeze between the table and the booth-style seating that ran along the wall, Veronica took the chair and left the banquette for Lauren. The walls of the restaurant were sponge painted in various shades of golden yellow and brown and the soft lighting from the copper chandeliers made the room feel cozy.

Veronica ordered the bacon wrapped jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese and ate the appetizer while she waited for Lauren. She still didn't know how she was going to broach the subject of the baby swap, but she was hoping to drop enough hints that Lauren would just offer up the information she wanted.

When she walked into the restaurant, her attire provided Veronica with a conversational gambit. Hair pulled into a ponytail, sneakers, jeans and a Brown University hoodie. She waved her over, waited until she slid onto the banquette and then gestured toward her sweatshirt. "My husband went to Brown."

Her brow furrowed. "Logan went to Brown?" There was no scorn or skepticism in her question only genuine curiosity.

"Class of 2010." Veronica opened her menu. She already knew what she was having —the Mucho Gusto Chile Relleno with the hottest salsa verde they made— but she wanted to make this lunch date seem as normal as possible. "Did you like Rhode Island?"

A sardonic smile flitted across her lips. "I did until my tenth snowstorm."

"So… by end of freshman year?"

"More like the middle." Her delivery and expression were so like Mac, Veronica felt a stab of melancholy. _I miss her_.

The waitress arrived to take their order; Lauren asked for the hot tamales, which sounded good, but Veronica stuck with her original choice. She waited for the waitress to collect the menus and bring their drinks before continuing the conversation. "I'm sorry for my outburst at the hospital Saturday night."

Lauren nodded. "You didn't need to take me to lunch; you could've apologized over the phone." She rushed on, "Not that you need to apologize at all- you were upset."

Veronica let her words pass without comment. "I didn't realize you knew Mac that well or did you just come to keep Duncan company?"

Her eyes dropped to the table and she shifted in her seat. "I met Mac at Madison's birthday party- weren't you there? Anyway, we've kept in touch. Not like let's go to lunch once a week, but, you know on Facebook- through emails."

_So maybe I don't know everything there is to know about my best friend_. Veronica let the silence stretch between them hoping Lauren would try to fill it and she wasn't disappointed.

"We haven't actually talked in a while, but when the Sheriff came to tell Duncan about the accident, I wanted to go with him and make sure Mac was okay."

She nodded; this was the opening she needed. "Didn't your parents and Madison want to come too?" As subtlety went it wasn't her best work, but she could see Lauren make the correct inference by the look on her face- wide eyes and mouth slightly parted.

"Madison wasn't…she doesn't…you, how do you know?"

"That's a long story." She wasn't going to confess to investigating her family back in high school. "When did you find out?" _Please tell me you didn't say anything, Mac_.

Before she could answer, the waitress returned with their food and Veronica silently cursed the bad timing. Lauren didn't appear eager to resume their conversation choosing instead to dig into her tamales. The smells coming from her plate were too tempting to resist. With the first bite of her stuffed posilla chile pepper, Veronica decided further questioning could wait until they were done eating. _You are not helping Mommy at all, baby Echolls_.

"I saw the settlement agreement," Lauren blurted out halfway through the meal.

With a longing stare at the remaining pepper on her plate, Veronica sighed and put down her fork. "Between your parents and Neptune Memorial?"

She nodded. Her eyes were focused on the table and she was pushing around pieces of her tamale- dragging them back and forth through the _rojo_ sauce. "I lost my driver's license." Lauren's hand stilled. Dropping her fork, she looked at Veronica. "I needed my birth certificate to replace it and that's when I found it."

"Do your parents know that you found—"

"My mom does; I confronted her with it." She shrugged. "I'm not sure if my dad knows- I mean about me knowing. Obviously he knows…" Her voice trailed off. "Mom may have told him, but they…they have their secrets, you know?"

"What about Madison?"

Lauren shook her head. "Mom was adamant that I not tell her- said there was no point and it would only hurt her. Madison has her birth certificate, the official adoption paperwork was sealed and there was a confidentiality clause in the settlement." Another shrug, "At least that's how Mom explained the reasons she didn't need to know."

If the Sinclairs legally adopted Madison, it made sense that the Mackenzie's did the same and legally adopted Mac. Just giving a child up for adoption didn't sever your parental rights, but the actual adoption proceeding did. With the adoption, Mac wouldn't be entitled to inherit from the Sinclairs if they died intestate and if they were adamant about Madison never knowing, they probably did not make a provision in their Wills for Mac. "Could Madison have found out the same way you did?"

"Mom burned them- the papers? She lit a fire and burned them right there in front of me."

"What about before—"

Lauren cut her off again. "Trust me, if Madison had found out, we would _all_ know about it." Her emphasis said she was very familiar with the over-the-top theatrics and drama queen tendencies of her sister. "I never said anything to Mac; I wanted to, but" —she frowned— "How did she find out? I'm assuming she knows since you do, but the confidentiality wasn't just between the parents and the hospital. Both my parents and the Mackenzie's agreed to never tell Madison _or_ Mac."

_And there's my cue folks- time to end lunch- sorry chile rellenos. _"When Mac wakes up, you two should talk." Veronica scanned the restaurant in search of their waitress. After establishing eye contact, she made the universal 'check please' sign.

"Did the doctor say when that will be?"

"A week, ten days- it all depends on the swelling." Repeating the same news was starting to get to her. It was only three days since the accident, but patience wasn't one of her virtues, and Veronica really wanted to be able to say _Mac's awake and doing great_. "Thanks for meeting me for lunch."

"Thanks for inviting me." Neither one of them offered up _the let's do this again _pleasantry. "Will you call me if anything changes with Mac?"

Veronica slipped her credit card into the check holder and the waitress magically appeared to take it. She was tempted to suggest that Lauren could help out with a shift in the waiting room, but she didn't think Natalie needed anymore stress and seeing Mac's real sister every day might not be the best thing. "I'll call you."

She offered her thanks again, stood, and with a fast awkward wave left the table. Veronica waited until she was gone and finished her stuffed pepper. When Lauren said Madison didn't know, she believed her. _There goes my champagne celebration_. With Madison's motive eliminated, Veronica briefly considered the other Sinclairs and promptly dismissed them. They may not have raised her as their own, but Mac was still their daughter and she couldn't see either Ellen or Charles wanting to kill her even to keep their secret, which left Lauren. There was no discernable motive for her to want Mac gone and she seemed genuinely concerned. _So much for turning stones_. She shook her head. Out of the four theories, Mac's past was never really a serious contender. _And then there were three_.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Logan was on the phone when she walked into the house. "—wants how much?" He smirked. "Who does he think he is Aaron Echolls?" Whatever the other person said made him laugh. "Talentless hack."

Veronica put her messenger bag on the sofa. "Where's Wyatt," she whispered. It was too late for her to be napping. If she was asleep now, she'd never go to bed later.

Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, he answered, "Our room," and returned to his conversation. "He's a good choice…yeah, on Monday."

She walked down the hall and peeked into the bedroom. Wyatt wasn't sleeping. Her entire Little People collection was spread across the floor in an imaginary town. She was lying on her stomach, opening and closing the gates of her barn to make the neighing horse sound, while she bounced the horse up and down with her other hand. Veronica backed away from the bedroom before the baby spotted her.

Solo play was a new occurrence and one they were trying to encourage. The pediatrician said it fostered creativity, curiosity and problem solving along with independence and confidence. Of course Logan's response to that information was to turn to Veronica with a smirk and say, _so you played alone a lot, huh?_

He was still on the phone, but now he was in the kitchen leaning against the center island. "That's too…yeah. Okay, email it to me."

The slow cooker was on the counter and the spicy fragrance emanating from it was amazing. She reached for the lid to take a peek and Logan blocked her, sliding his body between her and the cabinets. Holding up her thumb and forefinger to indicate a pinch, Veronica asked, "Just a little taste?"

He shook his head. "I've gotta go before Veronica eats my dinner." Logan chuckled and she made a face at him. "Uh oh, now I've made her mad." He kissed her nose. "You're still coming for the party, right?" Moving away, he got a spoon from the drawer and handed it to her. "See you then…yeah, me too."

As he hung up the phone, she tasted the curry. _Mmm, lamb vindaloo_. "That's yummy."

"It's also for _dinner_."

"You're the one who gave me a spoon." She stole another taste.

"Because I didn't stand a chance of keeping you out of that pot." He resumed his position between her and the counter and rested his hands on her hips. "It's called accepting defeat gracefully."

"You're very good at it."

"Lots of practice." He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I should go check on the baby." Once he left the room, Veronica used his absence to help herself to a small bowl of the spicy vindaloo and a piece of naan flatbread. "Wyatt's singing the town to" —he frowned at her— "Did you eat lunch?"

"Yes." _Over an hour ago_. "How long has she been in there?"

"Twenty minutes? But I think she's almost done with alone time, she's put the entire town to sleep in our bed."

Veronica grinned. "Maybe Neptune should institute a town bedtime."

"Then who would you follow around at night?"

"You?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "We could make our own money shots." He eyed her empty bowl. "Do you want more?"

"I'll wait for dinner."

"What do you mean wait? That _was_ your dinner."

"Then I'll just have to eat yours." She put her bowl in the sink. Nodding toward the phone, she asked, "Trina?" Logan nodded. "Is she producing a new movie?"

"Yeah, and she wanted to know what to buy Wyatt for her birthday."

His angelic tone and innocent expression made her Spidey-sense start to tingle. Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't."

"Didn't what?" A slight uptick in the corner of his mouth and the gleam in his eyes clinched it.

"Logan that thing is too expensive and—"

"It's a swing set."

"And I'm the Queen of England."

The uptick spread into a full grin and he curtsied. "Your highness." His idea of a swing set was a custom-cut cedar play structure with princess turrets, a sandbox, monkey bars, picnic table, a regular slide _and_ a tube slide. "It's not just for her; the new baby can use it too."

Her argument was interrupted by Wyatt running into the kitchen. She was patting her tummy, "Me eat?"

Veronica smiled. "Is somebody hungry?"

Food momentarily forgotten, Wyatt rushed at her. "Mama!" Thrusting her arms in the air, she waited to be picked up and Veronica happily obliged.

Hugging her close, she kissed the top of her head. "Is your town asleep?"

Wyatt nodded and launched into the details of how she put them to bed. She was an advanced talker, but when telling a long story she still engaged in toddler speak- periods of a language known only to her, punctuated with familiar words that Veronica could understand and an occasional clear sentence. "Sing bc's…tuck, tuck."

"You sang the ABC song and tucked them in?" Involved with her story, she didn't complain when Veronica put her in her Table Time Turtle booster seat and strapped her in.

"Me shh." Wyatt pressed her fingers to her lips to demonstrate. "Night-night."

"You shushed them and told them it was night-night time?"

She wagged her finger at the table like it contained her Little People. "No talk."

"That's what I tell Daddy when I put him to bed, but it doesn't always work." The baby nodded like this was a known fact and Veronica kissed her nose. "I love you sweet pea."

"You two think you're so cute." Logan nudged her out of the way with his hip and put Wyatt's plate down. No lamb vindaloo for her; he'd cut up tiny pieces of lamb, small chunks of baked potato minus the skin, and crinkly carrot fries. "I'll have you know, when I take Mommy to bed, she's very loud too."

"One day she's going to understand your inappropriate comments."

He grinned. "I'll just have to get more creative then."

The baby held up a fry. "Dippy?"

"I didn't forget." Logan went to the fridge and returned with a yogurt dill dipping sauce for Wyatt's fries. Crossing to the counter, he got bowls and silverware for the two of them. He filled them with rice and topped each with the vindaloo. "How did it go with Max?"

"The receptionist thought I was there to audition."

"Because you're hot." Pausing, he titled his head back and closed his eyes. "Hmm…my wife the porn star."

"Are you actually contemplating that?"

"For personal home viewing only, of course." He carried the bowls to the table. "And you could only star in them with me." His smile faded as the ghost of Aaron Echolls walked through the kitchen.

Veronica squeezed his hand and gave it a gentle tug. It was a reminder to be here in the present with them. "Max agreed to help me."

"That's good." He made one more trip to the fridge to get sweet tea for them and milk for Wyatt. "I called Tomás and looked over Vanessa…the trophy wife's file."

"Vanessa? We're on a first name basis?"

He shrugged. "I think your client's right." Pressing his index finger along the side of his nose, he inhaled. A frown marred his brow and she could tell she'd lost him to the past again.

"Hey," she waved her hand in front of his face. "Come back to your happy place."

His smile was contrite. "Yes, ma'am."

Scrunching her nose at his _persistent_ use of that word, made him grin and she shook her head. "I searched Lisa's studio." She almost mentioned the lunch with Lauren Sinclair, but decided it could wait. Discussing Lauren would bring up Madison and she was trying to _avoid_ the past right now. She took a bite of the curry before telling him about the barren and sad apartment. "I brought the shoebox home with me to go through later."

"Her parents are probably going to want that."

She nodded. "I have the contact information for the building's management company so they can make arrangements to clean out the apartment." Veronica checked the baby's plate; she'd eaten most of her carrot fries, but very little of anything else and her milk was gone. "Why don't you have some lamb?" She picked up a piece, dunked it in the yogurt and held it out for Wyatt. "See you can dip it too."

Ignoring the offered piece, Wy dipped her own piece of lamb and ate it. Logan laughed. "That solo play is really paying off in the independence department."

"Be nice or I'm going to _play_ by myself."

His eyebrows shot up. "Can I watch?"

She didn't bother trying to hide her smile. "Keep dreaming." Using a piece of naan, she dragged it around her bowl, scooping up the remains of the curry. "What did Tomás have to say?"

"When Kane Software went public, Jake didn't want to give up control of his company."

"Shocker."

"The public offering of stock was class A shares- each worth only one vote. The stock the family kept, class B, is known as super-voting shares and each one is worth ten votes. Facebook and Google did the same thing when they went public."

"Jake Kane- trendsetter." She got up, rinsed her bowl and put it in the dishwasher. "So the public could own more of the company, but with these super shares, the Kanes retain control?" At his nod, she asked, "Who wrote these rules? Mel Brooks?"

Logan sang a few bars. "_And now it's springtime for Hitler and Germany- Deutschland is happy and gay_."

Wyatt's head bounced along with the song as she shoved a piece of potato in her mouth. Veronica smiled. _Music is definitely her thing_. She resumed loading the dishwasher. _When is a hundred percent not a hundred percent? When the Kane's were in control of the counting._ It was like a Bugs Bunny cartoon: _two for you: one, two for me_; _three for you: one, two, three for me_. "That means the stock Celeste is selling to raise capital is really important."

"Whoever buys it will have more voting power, which will allow greater control on selecting board members and the company CEO."

If someone was looking to takeover the company they would need more than some of Celeste's stock. "Has anyone been buying the publicly traded stock?"

Logan shook his head. "There's been some market movement, but nothing noticeable."

She nodded. "I'm going to get her bath ready."

Veronica wasn't sure how any of this fit. If you wanted to takeover the company why would you steal its biggest project? Selling Smartpaper to Microtech would probably bankrupt Kane Software and your stock would be worthless.

She went to her room to clean up the Little People. Flicking back the comforter, she grinned. When Logan said the entire town, he wasn't kidding. Wyatt had put not only the people and the animals to bed, but also all their vehicles. She dumped them into their bin and carried the buildings into Wyatt's room.

If your plan in stealing Smartpaper was to bankrupt Kane Software _on behalf_ of Microtech- they could come in and takeover the company for pennies on the dollar. But, in that scenario, you wouldn't want to buy Kane stock; you would want to own shares in _Microtech_. Veronica couldn't figure out the angle. The world of high finance didn't make sense to her. _Oh the rich, how they mock me_.

Starting the bath water, she tested it with her wrist and dropped the floating octopus thermometer into the tub. She squeezed the various colors of the finger paints into an empty egg carton and hid the bottles in the linen closet. Giving Wyatt a small amount of paint avoided the unpleasant argument of _'more, Mama' _and her refusal to get out of the tub. This way, when it was gone, they were done; plus the egg carton floated and Wyatt liked to pretend it was a paint boat.

_Pretend._ Turning off the water, she sat on the edge of the tub. _Pretending_ to steal Smartpaper would cause Kane Software to devote all its resources into developing the technology in a rush to get it to market before its competitors. And, according to the financials, the stock was their only available resource. Now you could buy up the stock _and_ still have the tech. With controlling interest in the company, you could force the Kane's out, produce Smartpaper and rake in billions while Duncan and Celeste watched from the sidelines.

A naked little girl bounded into the bathroom, followed closely by Logan. Their arrival cut off her musings. "Bath!"

"Do you want to use the potty first?"

Wyatt looked at the ducky potty and then at the paint carton in Veronica's hand. "No."

_I should've seen that coming_. "Okay, straight to the bath." She got up to lift her into the tub and Logan beat her to it; picking up Wyatt and swinging her into the warm, bubbly water.

"I cleaned the kitchen; why don't—"

"Me help."

"Yes you did" —he smirked at Veronica— "she loaded the dishwasher." Wyatt's idea of helping to load the dishwasher was taking all the dirty plates out and laying them on the floor before trying to climb on the open door and then hitting all the buttons. They never knew if they were going to get a normal wash, a heavy one or the pots and pans scrub. "I'll do this," he offered.

"We can do it together." They sang songs; painted the tub, the walls and their faces; played boats and in between all that managed to wash Wyatt. Then Veronica took over- getting the baby dried, powdered and dressed in her pajamas.

Wyatt raced down the hallway ahead of Veronica and launched herself at Logan's lap with a cry of "Daddeee." She was a pajama-clad kamikaze on a mission to deliver cuteness. Tilting her head, she smiled at him. "Movie?"

"Okay, let's watch The Letter Factory." She looked puzzled until he held up the DVD. When she saw the frogs on the case, she clapped. She loved watching the leap frog family tour the factory and listen to all the "new" letters learn how to make their sounds.

Veronica perched on the arm of the sofa. "What are you going to do when she tilts her head at sixteen and asks for a car?"

He shrugged. "Buy her one?"

"Uh, no."

Logan sat down, put Wyatt on his lap and pushed play. "Then I'll just tell her to go ask Mom."

"And make me the bad guy? Gee, thanks."

"We each have our roles to play."

Before the urge to roll her eyes got too strong, she left them in the living room. She could _not_ sit through another round of _'the k makes a ka, the k makes a ka, we all have a sound to make, the k makes a ka.' _ She groaned; now the song was stuck in her head. Veronica didn't know how Logan did it- sitting through these movies on endless repeat, but if she had to play bad guy, it was the least he could do.

It wasn't a long movie, but it would take Wyatt to bedtime and allow Veronica enough time to check out today's recordings from the bugs at Kane Software. She changed into a pair of boxer shorts, Logan's tee shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks. Climbing into bed, a Little People elephant jabbed her in the hip. "Sorry Mr. Elephant, but only one animal's allowed in my bed and he's watching a movie."

Plugging in her headphones, she sorted through the audio files saved on the laptop and started with the ones from the conference room. While the bug could transmit nonstop, she'd set them up to be voice activated. Each time they clicked on a new audio file was created. There were only two sound files from the conference room. The first was a job interview. Veronica listened just long enough to judge the position was for a secretary. The next was two people having lunch while discussing the merits of a television show they both watched.

She moved the pointer to the one file from Duncan's office and hesitated. It was strange to be eavesdropping on him, _again_. The last time she'd done this was his confidential session with Miss James when trying to solve Lilly's murder. Pushing the memory aside, she double-clicked the file.

Celeste's voice sharply cut into his greeting. "It's simply not possible, Duncan."

"Hello to you too, Mom."

"I can't even find a decent caterer in this town with only four days notice."

"It's just a party and you've thrown what? A million of them?"

"They take planning and preparation, Duncan." There was no holding back the eye roll at Celeste's patronizing and dismissive tone. "We have certain standards to uphold. We're trying to get these people to invest millions; I can't serve them just anything. What would you have me do? Open bags of chips?" Veronica could envision the look of disgust on Celeste's face.

"Maybe the Grand can cater it?"

She launched into all the reasons that would be unacceptable and Veronica suffered through the entire episode of _Party Planning Nightmares of the Rich starring Celeste Kane._

There were six files from Charles Shepherd's office and they were all long. Apparently he spent most of his work day behind his desk either on the phone or meeting with people. The first was a telephone conversation with his teenage daughter regarding her sixth speeding ticket in as many days. _Don't these people do any work?_

She instantly regretted the thought as his work day got started. She slogged her way through budget discussions for the next fiscal year, the details of a training seminar for mid-level management, calls to schedule appointments, and the dictation of some of _the_ most boring and dry letters she'd ever heard.

Veronica clicked another icon. The ringing of the phone told her Charles was placing a call. He started speaking as soon as the call connected, cutting off the other person mid-hello. "It's me; I can't take the kids this weekend."

His apathy triggered an angry, "You said that last weekend."

"It's another work thing."

"Uh-huh, so where does Deidre want to go this weekend?" _Bitter, party of one_.

"The Kane kid is having another one of those investor parties- my presence is mandatory." Veronica doubted that and so did the ex.

"I'm sure they can manage without you, Chuck; the entire world doesn't revolve around _you_. You narcissistic fuck."

"Look, I just can't do it, okay?"

"You don't _want_ to do it- there's a difference."

"Well, maybe if you didn't raise such brats, we wouldn't—"

"That's right; _I_ raised them while _you_ were off with your whores." The entire argument had a ring of familiarity, like they'd had it before, _several times_.

"You want to keep living in that house? Then I need to go to this party. The Kanes are selling some of their stock in the company."

The word _stock_ mollified her. "How much are they selling?" Veronica wondered if cartoon dollar signs appeared in her eyes.

"I think Celeste is planning to get rid of all of it- she already gave away her board seat." _Hmm…interesting_. Veronica made a mental note to research the newest member of the board.

"Are you going to lose your job?"

"Don't worry; you'll still get your alimony check."

"I better." She let out an exaggerated sigh. "If you're not taking the kids- you have to be the one to tell them. I'm not going to keep covering for you." Veronica listened to the rest of the vitriolic, well-rehearsed argument without learning anything else. _Unless it mattered that the ex was still pissed about the vacation house in Tahoe and that Deidre got a new Jag._

Closing her laptop, she slid it on the nightstand next to the elephant and tossed the headphones on top. Logan was by himself in the living room, staring at the fire and sipping a cup of coffee. "Wyatt in bed?"

"She fell asleep in the middle of the movie."

"I'm sorry; I was listening to the bugs from Kane Software." Veronica glanced in his cup. "Refill?" He shook his head and she joined him on the couch.

Logan draped his arm across her shoulders and kissed her temple. "Learn anything interesting?"

"Charles Shepherd and his ex-wife do _not_ get along, _at all_."

He chuckled. "It's hard to imagine, exes who hate each other; are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, she called him a narcissistic fuck." She stole his cup of coffee and took a sip. "One interesting thing, Celeste gave away her board seat and Charles thinks she's selling all of her stock."

"He can't be right." He watched her take another sip of his coffee. "You know, if you're going to finish it, I'm going to need that refill."

Veronica returned his mug. "Why can't he be right?"

"Community property. If Jake kept forty percent of the company when they went public, he would've had to give Celeste half when they split. Selling all her stock would be like giving away the company."

She shook her head. "I don't see Jake giving her a share equal to his- he probably made it up with cash and other assets." Sliding her arms around his waist, she snuggled against his side and closed her eyes. "But I'll see if Max can get copies of their divorce agreement."

The quiet settled around them. She could hear the soft crackle of the fire with the occasional snap and pop of the logs. The distant rush of the ocean mingled with the familiar ticks and creaks of the house itself. She loved family time- the constant chatter of their daughter, their banter and the conversations, but she loved this too. Being able to shut off her thoughts and just _be_ here with Logan was grounding.

He kissed the top of her head. "You know, this is not where I pictured Logan and Veronica in the future." There was nothing sad or wistful about his tone, but she worried that he was still dwelling in the dark place his mind took him to during dinner.

"Oh?" She tilted her head back to see his face. His features were relaxed and untroubled. Keeping her tone light, she teased, "You didn't see us having fireside chats about the failed marriages of Neptune?"

"Not exactly" —he smirked— "Actually, I didn't see us doing anything. There _was_ no Logan and Veronica in my future; it was just me flying fighter jets until I shuffled off this mortal coil."

She laced their fingers together. "No wife and kids?"

"I've never wanted to marry anyone, but you." The resoluteness of his statement made her smile.

"So what was I doing in this imagined future?"

"Big, corporate lawyer for a white-shoe firm in the city; a house in the suburbs- maybe Scarsdale or Greenwich; and some vanilla, uptight husband with a constant pucker on his face from work days spent kissing ass."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "How come you get the life of excitement and danger while I'm relegated to the house in the 'burbs?"

"This is _my_ story, remember?"

"You read 1984 too many times; that sounds positively dystopian." She grinned. "It's much better this way. _I_ get the life of excitement and danger, while _you're_ relegated to the house in the 'burbs."

He shrugged. "It's okay." Placing his hand on her leg, he started to stroke his way up her bare thigh pushing at the hem of the boxers.

"Just okay?"

"Mmm-hmm, but you know what would make it" —he lifted her hair and bowed his head to kiss her neck— "better?"

Veronica closed her eyes. "Ice cream?"

She felt him smile against her skin. "It'll get the sheets messy, but sure why not?"

"Well…we could just stay in here." Reaching behind him, she grabbed a pillow and tossed it on the floor in front of the fire. "Easier cleanup."

"That's my girl- always thinking ahead."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Veronica woke up with a tiny arm across her neck, an equally tiny foot jammed into her hip and a rabbit in her face. She moved Cuddles and glanced at Logan. He definitely got the better end of the deal. Wyatt's head was resting on his shoulder and her back was curled against his side. After "eating ice cream" by the fire, they'd forgotten to set up the baby gate and a sleepy Wyatt had wriggled her way in between them around midnight. Rolling on her side, Veronica indulged in a few minutes of watching them sleep.

When he said, _this is not where I pictured Logan and Veronica in the future_, she could've just responded, _ditto_. This was not the future she'd envisioned for herself either. Granted, her ten-year-plan didn't really focus on the personal. There was no husband and kids with a house in the suburbs; it was Stanford, work and save, Columbia, Bar Exam. It was so easy to _see_ that life then, but now it was unimaginable. Sometimes she was afraid she'd wake up in that lonely existence to find that this was all just a pleasant dream. She brushed her fingers over Logan's cheek and kissed Wyatt's forehead. _They're real, Veronica_.

Slipping from bed, she tugged on a pair of sweatpants and shoved her feet into her elephant slippers. _One member of my very real family is hungry_ —she rubbed her belly— _make that two members_. Padding into the kitchen, she pulled out pancake mix from the pantry and breakfast sausages from the freezer. She put the sausage with a little water in the frying pan and went outside to get the shoebox from her trunk.

All the talk about Kane Software, its stock and the mysterious new board member made waiting until Saturday's party impossible. _Patience is overrated_. She'd fallen asleep thinking of ways to infiltrate the building, talk to the employees, and get the information she wanted. The new board member was the easiest; the other two would require a little finesse _and_ a visit to Clarence Wiedman. But first she wanted to finish her search of Lisa's things and discuss the trophy wife case with Logan.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabbed her messenger bag from the living room floor. Veronica deposited the bag and box on the island counter and finished frying the sausage. Setting aside a few for herself, she placed the rest in the warming drawer and made the pancake batter. Taking fresh blueberries from the fridge, she emptied the container into a pot, added water, lemon juice and a pinch of sugar and then set the flame on low to let it simmer.

The shoebox was big enough for a pair of boots and the label on its side confirmed that it used to hold a pair of size eight Uggs. Opening the lid, she removed the important documents she'd gone through yesterday and focused on the rest of the contents. Next up were Lisa's diplomas from Roosevelt High in Seattle and from San Diego State; they were folded in half and paper clipped to a printout of her college transcript. Veronica moved them to the side. The only items remaining were three 9x12 manila clasp envelopes. The first contained copies of tax returns, the next was her bank statements and the final envelope held the personal photographs that weren't on display in the apartment.

Dumping them on the counter, Veronica spread them out. A cute, pudgy baby —presumably Lisa— was posed in a few shots by herself and in others with people Veronica assumed were her parents and brother. There was a family picture of the four of them taken in front of a Christmas tree. Lisa looked to be around five or six in the photo and her brother Scott was in that gangly, awkward prepubescent stage- all limbs, pimples and hormones. It put the age difference between the two siblings at six or seven years. A black &amp; white wedding photo of her parents and another of just the bride were mixed in with a few more shots of Lisa during the grade-school years. Then there was Lisa as a teenager with her arms wrapped around her brother. Finally there was a picture of Scott by himself sitting on the hood of a classic Dodge Charger. Indentations on the front of the photo told her there was writing on the back, but whatever used to be there was blacked out with a permanent marker.

Veronica turned on the under-cabinet lighting and held the picture close to the glare. Tilting the photo, she studied both sides. The writing wasn't deep enough to make the impression clear, but the last three letters looked like _'res.' _She took a piece of paper from the drawer, laid it on top of the photo and lightly rubbed it with a pencil. The graphite raised the image and confirmed her guess of the letters, but it didn't give her the rest.

Returning the photo to the counter, she went back to making breakfast; pouring the batter onto the griddle for silver-dollar pancakes. For every three she cooked and flipped onto the platter, she dipped one in the blueberry sauce and ate it.

It wasn't odd to have pictures tucked away in the closet. The box of photos she pulled out the other night for Laurel was proof of that, but they weren't the only pictures she owned. There were plenty of framed photos around the house; their wedding and honeymoon, baby pictures of Wyatt, some of friends and family, Logan in his uniform and even the one of Logan and Lilly as teenagers she'd stolen from a crime scene. _Why were all of Lisa's family photos hidden in the bottom of her closet? _

Conversation from the bedroom interrupted her thoughts and broke the morning quiet. While she couldn't hear the actual words, she could hear Wyatt's sweet, high-pitched chatter followed by Logan's deeper rumble. She smiled. _No sleeping for Daddy on Wyatt's watch_. Veronica took the last batch of pancakes off the griddle and went to rescue him.

Wyatt was sitting on his stomach, patting his face. "Daddy up?"

"No, Daddy sleeping." His eyes were still shut, but he was smiling. He started to fake snore making his lips flap on the exhale.

Wyatt stared at him for a minute and then laid her head on his chest. Closing her eyes, she stuck her thumb in her mouth like she was going to go back to sleep, but when Logan gently started to stroke the top of her head, her eyes popped open. "Daddy up now?" She asked the question around her thumb.

He chuckled. "Okay, you win."

"I thought I might find a little girl in here who wants pancakes." As soon as she said the word pancakes, Wyatt was sliding off Logan's chest and onto the floor.

He shook his head. "Abandoned for Mrs. Butterworth and a short stack."

"On the bright side, you can go back to sleep."

Peeling away the covers, he swung his legs off the mattress. "And leave you two alone with the food? I don't think so, Mars."

"We might have saved you some." Veronica tossed the words over her shoulder as she turned to follow Wyatt from the room.

"Might?"

"You heard me." She hurried down the hall and caught the baby at the door to the kitchen. Scooping her up, she carried her to the table and strapped her into the booster chair. "Do you want apple juice or milk?" Veronica gave her a plate of pancakes and poured blueberry compote on top.

Wyatt shoved a piece of pancake in her mouth. "B'own milk."

Veronica made them both chocolate milk, fixed herself a plate and sat down. "Did you like sleeping with Mommy and Daddy?"

She nodded. "Me big bed."

Waking up in the middle of the night wasn't uncommon for Wyatt, but there was usually a reason; a wet bed, being sick, thunder and nightmares were the top four. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Instead of answering, Wyatt made a one-handed grab for her chocolate milk and popped it in her mouth. She sucked and stared at Veronica over the pink top of the Winnie-the-Pooh sippy cup. _Interrogating a toddler sounded easy in theory, but it was more difficult in practice_. "Did Cuddles have a bad dream?"

There was no pause in her drinking, but she gave Veronica a slow, pronounced nod. "Did sleeping in the big bed make him feel better?"

Another small nod as she popped the sippy cup out of her mouth. Picking up her fork, she concentrated on trying to skewer a piece of pancake. When it was proving difficult, she picked up a piece with her fingers and shoved it in her mouth. "Mama go work?"

"Later, but first I'm having breakfast with my sweet pea." She took a bite of her sausage and watched the baby eat- one piece with a fork, the next two with her fingers and then back to using the fork. Logan said her bad dream from the other night was because the two of them went bye-bye and it made her sad. In light of the _Mama go work_ question, last night's bad dream was probably the same thing. She told Logan they didn't have any routines, but maybe it was time to start getting some if it would help Wyatt feel more secure. "Do you want a piece of sausage?"

Her lips moved with no sound like she was trying to work out how to say the word and Veronica repeated it for her. Wyatt tried it a few times and got close with "Taw-tage."

Cutting up the sausage, Veronica put the pieces on her dish and watched Wyatt try to stab one with her fork. When it rolled away, she picked it up and pushed it onto the tines before eating it. Veronica smiled. "Is that good?"

Wyatt nodded. She shoved another piece on to the end of her fork and held it out for Veronica. "Mama eat."

"I love when you share." She ate the offered piece, made _'mmm'_ noises and then held out her fork with a piece for Wyatt.

The baby ate the bite of sausage and mimicked the _'mmm' _sounds. "Love Mama share."

"We all love when Mommy shares." A showered, shaved and dressed Logan leaned over to steal a piece of sausage from her plate. She was tempted to stab his finger with her fork, but she didn't think it would set a good example for their daughter. His grin said he knew exactly what she was thinking and he stole another piece.

"Your plate is on the counter."

"Tastes better this way…actually," he picked up another piece and held it to her lips. She opened her mouth and he put it on her tongue. Lowering his head, he kissed her and stole the sausage. "It tastes better that way."

Sliding her fingers into his hair, she held him in place for another kiss. Before releasing him, she nuzzled his neck and inhaled the woodsy, outdoor scent of his aftershave. Veronica let him go and leaned back to study his appearance. He was dressed in a look she called _rich man casual;_ black desert boots, straight-cut expensive jeans, a black fine-knit sweater with a polo neck and his Breitling watch. She ran her hand up his arm. "Soft."

"It's cashmere."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Of course it is. Got a hot date?"

He nodded. "I'm taking this very cute blonde to the museum and maybe out for lunch."

"Oh? Have you been seeing her for a long time? This blonde of yours?"

"Almost two years now." Logan kissed the top of Wyatt's head and went to retrieve his breakfast.

Veronica grinned. "Is it serious?"

"Definitely" —he smiled— "We're talking lifetime commitment."

"Lucky girl."

He shook his head. "I'm the lucky one." Pausing on his way back to the table, he inclined his head toward the pictures on the island. "From Lisa's shoebox?"

She nodded. "Look at them for me and tell me if you think there's anything odd."

Logan put his plate down and studied the photos. He slid them around the countertop and picked some up for a closer look. "Nice car."

"Not the car, the people."

He waved the photo at her. "You have to appreciate a classic." She rolled her eyes. "This is a sixty-eight Dodge Charger, 440 Magnum; Steve McQueen's nemesis drove one in Bullitt."

"I thought it was the General Lee."

"That was a sixty nine." Logan joined them at the table. "Besides being hidden in her closet, why do you think they're odd?"

She shrugged. "There's nobody else in them. They're her only pictures and it's just the four of them- no other relatives, no friends." Wyatt was almost done with her pancakes so Veronica cut up another one and added the pieces to her plate.

"Has your dad heard from her family yet?"

"I don't know; I'll ask him later when I go to the office." She stole a sausage from him. "Are you really going to the museum?"

"The children's museum- Wyatt likes wobble land and the bounce house."

"I remember." Veronica arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little overdressed? I seem to recall painting and playing with clay the last time we went." There was also a really cute picture from that trip of Wyatt dressed as lettuce.

"According to Lisa's notes, trophy wife takes her son there every Wednesday."

"Last night you're calling her Vanessa and today you're dressing up for her? Are you looking for evidence or a date?"

Logan grinned. "My plan is to blend in with the other rich parents who are only there to socialize and look like they care about what their kids are doing." He put his last sausage on her plate. "You know the ones- they're dressed to the nines, travel in packs and spend the time talking about tennis lessons and vacations in Saint-Tropez."

"Be sure to mention our trip to the Maldives." Veronica frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure this is a good idea." She glanced at Wyatt who was picking up individual blueberries and squishing them between her fingers before eating them. "I don't like the thought of her being near trophy wife."

"It's not like she's going to break out the coke in the middle of the museum." He smirked. "Although you can put a gram in your nasal spray and use it all day long without anyone knowing." She almost asked him if he'd ever done that and decided it wasn't important; but his uncanny ability to read her thoughts made him shake his head and answer anyway. "No, Veronica- I preferred it without saline."

"You know you can talk to me about it if you want, right?"

"I know." He slid his hand across the table and she slipped her hand into his open palm. "That was a different Logan Echolls."

She picked up his hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze and kissed his fingers. "It's not the drugs I'm worried about, it's the accident. I'm not sure it had anything to do with Kane Software; it could've been Lisa's past or one of her other cases."

Logan frowned. "You really think Vanessa killed Lisa to keep her coke habit a secret?"

"If she loses custody, she loses control of the ten million dollar trust fund."

"Done, Mama." Wyatt was pulling at the belt on the booster seat and trying to squeeze the sides of the restraint to tug the strap free.

"Okay sweet pea." Veronica brought both their plates to the sink and returned with a wet washcloth. She cleaned the baby's hands without protest, but when she tried to clean her face, Wyatt scrunched her nose and turned away. "Do you want to do it?"

"Me do?" Veronica nodded and Wyatt held out her hands for the cloth. She swiped at her mouth missing most of the blueberries.

"Missed some." Veronica tapped the baby's lips and she wiped them again. "And you missed a spot here." She tapped her nose. "And here," she tickled under Wyatt's chin making her giggle. "And a big spot right here." Veronica kissed her cheek.

"Down, Mama…bocks now."

The second the buckle was released, Wyatt slid from the chair and disappeared into the living room. "Think she's going to be an architect or an engineer?" His question was immediately followed by the sound of blocks being dumped on the hardwood.

Veronica smiled. "What happened to medical school?"

"She can still do that in her spare time." Logan picked up his plate and used the discarded washcloth to wipe down the table. "I'm not planning to talk to trophy wife. I just want to get close enough to see if there are any physical signs of abuse —runny nose, dilated pupils— and maybe hear some gossip."

"You really think she's using?"

Logan nodded. "The ex said she was moody, hyperactive, edgy."

He also complained that prior to their divorce certain pieces of expensive jewelry —both his and hers— had gone missing. "Lisa thought he was lying."

"I know; I saw her notes in the file." At the mention of the file, he walked out of the kitchen and Veronica used the break in conversation to check on Wyatt. The blocks were scattered around her and she was playing with her wood shape sorter. The tip of her tongue was sticking from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on finding the right hole for the red triangle.

Veronica sensed Logan behind her and she leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. They watched Wyatt push the triangle through the correct hole and move on to the green square. "She's scary smart like her mom," he whispered the words against her ear.

Turning in his embrace, she pressed her palm to his cheek. "Her dad's pretty smart too."

Logan kissed her nose. "Must be, he married you." Bending his head, he brought their lips together in a slow, lingering kiss. She slid her arms around his waist; running her hands up his spine along the soft cashmere of his sweater. "I love you, Veronica."

"I love you, too."

He pressed their foreheads together for a second and then dropped another kiss on her nose before stepping back. He held up the case file. "Mac pulled the bank statements for the trust account and there are a lot of cash withdrawals. They started out small, but they grew and increased in frequency." Spreading the file open on the counter, he handed her the printouts.

It was hard to make a dent in ten million dollars, but trophy wife was trying her best. The cash withdrawals were highlighted. At first there was no discernable pattern to them, no set amount, no set days and then they became pretty regular, five hundred dollars twice a week. "What's five hundred dollars buying her?"

"Two eight balls?" He shrugged. "Prices change, but figure seventy bucks a gram and she's spending a thousand dollars a week, which gives her a two gram a day habit." Logan turned back to the file and picked up one of Lisa's surveillance photos. "I think this guy is her dealer. He came to her house four times in the two weeks you guys have been following her."

"So he delivers, like Dominos?"

"Being rich has its privileges." He deadpanned.

If Vanessa was buying the drugs inside her home and using them in private, it would make getting pictures for Veronica's client difficult. _Not impossible, but difficult_. It also meant the odds of Lisa witnessing anything that warranted her getting killed were very slim. Veronica put the picture down and opened her messenger bag. Taking out the two unlabeled files from Lisa's desk, she handed them to Logan. "There are some newspaper articles Lisa was using for research and there's a photograph of trophy wife with a mystery woman. See if she's one of the socializing museum moms."

"Yes—"

Veronica clamped her hand over his mouth. "No more ma'ams from you." He grinned against her palm. "I'll go get Wyatt dressed." She removed her hand. "So what are the toddlers of pretentious parents wearing these days?"

Logan smirked. "Twin sets and pearls?"

"A tutu it is then."


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Wyatt wanted to wear a yellow tutu so Veronica paired it with black leggings, a black turtleneck, yellow hair ribbons and a pair of yellow socks. "Is my little bumble bee ready to go to the museum?"

"Mama go too?"

"Next time, today it's just you and Daddy, okay?" Wyatt's lips parted in the slight pout that reminded her of Logan. She finished tying the baby's black Keds while thinking of a distraction. "Can you buzz like a bee?" Veronica demonstrated the _bzzz_ sound; planting tiny kisses on Wyatt's face and buzzing against her skin until she giggled.

Taking her hands, Veronica helped her slide off the bed. Wyatt stretched her arms out and flew from the room buzzing. Logan caught her as she raced past the kitchen. He swung her in the air and kissed her nose. "Me bum bee…_bzzz_."

A smile twitched the corners of Logan's mouth. "A bumble bee, huh? Let me see." He set her on her feet and she held out the edges of her tutu before buzzing at him. "Yep, definitely a very cute bee."

Wyatt reached for him. "Too tall."

Picking her back up, he pressed their foreheads together and rubbed noses with her. "I love you, Jellybean."

She squeezed his face between her hands and kissed him with a loud _muah_ sound. "Love Daddy."

Watching them interact was even better than watching them sleep; they were so affectionate with each other. Him: tender and patient, her: adoring and trusting. It was beautiful to witness something as pure and perfect as the bond between them. Wyatt rested her head on his shoulder and Logan kissed her forehead. "Ready to go blow bubbles?"

"Bubbles!" She started squirming and he put her down. Holding out her hand, with the palm up in a questioning gesture, she asked, "Paint too?"

Logan chuckled. "Yes, we can paint too."

Wyatt nodded like that was the right answer, put her arms out and buzzed her way into the living room. Veronica patted his chest. "Rethinking this sweater choice?"

He shrugged. "It's just a sweater." Cradling her hips between his palms, he pulled her closer. "What are you going to do while I'm teetering and tottering on a fake avocado?"

Veronica grinned. She already had a picture of him doing that very thing. "I'm going to look into Nigel Clark- the programmer Mac has been having lunch with every day."

Logan wagged his eyebrows. "Daily lunch dates, you say?"

"They were _co-workers_." She shook her head at his suggestive leer. "I'm hoping he'll agree to meet me and I can get some office gossip."

"Can't wait for Saturday, huh?"

"You're the one with the patience, remember?"

"Someone in this house needs it." Right on cue, Wyatt issued an impatient _'Daddeee'_ from the front door. "Her timing is getting better."

"I'll remember you said that the next time she interrupts sexy fun couple time."

"I said _better_ not perfect." He kissed her. "Want to meet us for lunch at the Corvette Diner?"

"Lunch with my two favorite people? How can I pass that up?"

"Let's be honest, Veronica, it isn't the company" —he smirked— "it's the cheeseburger with wasabi mayo."

"Wrong." She pushed his hands off her hips and started for the front door. "It's the chocolate, peanut butter and banana milkshake." Veronica got a sweater from the hall closet for Wyatt and added it to the diaper bag that was waiting by the door. "You have fun with Daddy and make me something pretty, okay?"

"Okay Mama."

She gave the baby a goodbye kiss before turning to Logan. "And you call me when you're leaving the museum; if I'm done, I'll meet you."

"Roger that." He scooped up the baby and Wyatt gave her a backward wave.

Veronica waited until they were in the car before closing the door. Turning back to the mess of blocks in the living room, she sighed. Putting the toys in their bins made her feel like Sisyphus with his immense boulder- destined to repeat the same task forever. _Or until Wyatt learns to do it herself_. She tossed the last block in the bin and went to shower.

There was something bothering her, but the more she tried to chase the idea, the further she pushed it away. She didn't know if it had something to do with the accident, the trophy wife, or Lisa. Rinsing the shampoo from her hair, she stood under the rainwater showerhead and closed her eyes. These long showers of hers were entirely Logan's fault for insisting on giving her the walk-in steam shower as a wedding present. With some reluctance, she finally turned off the water and stepped from the glass enclosure onto the heated slate tile floor.

_If Lisa thought the trophy wife was clean, why was she researching drug-trafficking? _She towel dried her hair, brushed it and twisted it into a hasty French braid. _Shouldn't her research have been about drug abuse and its signs; not, its supply chain?_ Veronica finished drying off and hung the towel on the rack. Returning to the bedroom, she pulled clothes from the dresser. _And those pictures- why only the four of them? And what did the letters 'res' mean?_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled on a pair of black maternity leggings and her own pair of Uggs. She put on a blue and black striped, short-sleeve peplum maternity top and grabbed her laptop from the nightstand. Carrying the computer to the kitchen, she plugged it in and made herself a cup of decaf.

While she waited for the computer to boot, she sipped her coffee and stared at Lisa's photos. Unless she wanted to completely lose the idea floating around her subconscious, she needed to distract herself and let her mind work out the problem. She returned Lisa's paperwork to the shoebox, but left the photos spread on the counter. Taking the background checks from her messenger bag, she thumbed through them for the one on Nigel Clark. The only thing Mac told her about him, aside from their sharing lunch, was that he was a computer programmer.

There wasn't a lot of _background_ in the check, but there was financial information and copies of his personnel file. He was earning close to eighty grand a year, he wasn't in debt and his credit report was stellar. There were no unusual deposits into his bank accounts and he had a healthy balance in his individual savings. The mortgage payments for his home in the not-as-rich, but still nice, 90907 neighborhood were paid on time and he drove a four-year-old Prius.

The personnel records showed that he was two years younger than Mac and also married. _Sometimes lunch is just lunch_. Nigel had no complaints or disciplinary actions in his file and his most recent performance evaluation called him an _asset to the company._ There were steady pay increases each January until this past one and he participated in the employee stock purchase plan. He'd earned one promotion and then a lateral transfer to R&amp;D.

A copy of his resume had him graduating from Neptune Christian Academy and then going on to attend Caltech where he got his undergraduate degree in Computer Science. There were a few internships during his years at Caltech, but nothing after his graduation. Veronica checked the employment dates in his personnel record. It looked like Kane Software was his one and only job, which meant he was working there back when Mac originally did. _Not a new acquaintance, but a rekindled friendship?_

She used the house phone to call the main switchboard at Kane Software while she confirmed the dates in Nigel's personnel file. The same frosty receptionist from Monday answered the phone. Since Veronica had no desire to be hung up on, she used her perky cheerleader voice to ask for Nigel. "Tell him it's Amber."

"Please hold." The end of _Landslide_ by Stevie Nicks filled the line. Veronica was only planning to use the Amber ruse to get past the receptionist, but now she wasn't so sure. _If Nigel knew Mac, did he also know she left Kane Software to work at Mars Investigations? What reason did Mac give him for her return to the company?_

He answered the line right in the middle of the Easy 98.1 station identification. "Nigel Clark."

"Hi Nigel, this is…Amber; I'm a friend of Mac's."

"How is she? Has she come out of the coma yet?" _There goes my plan to discuss Mac's condition with him- think fast, Veronica_.

"No, not yet, but the doctors say soon." Seconds ticked by and the silence was moving past normal to awkward. Veronica stared at her coffee cup and then glanced at her laptop. "I know this is like totally out there, but Mac told me you're the best with computers and I kinda have a problem."

"You have a computer problem?" His voice rose; making him sound both incredulous and a little appalled by her request.

"Yeah and I really need your help. Mac usually… you know what, this is like too weird, forget I even called." When he didn't hang up, she rushed on. "I could like totally pay you."

"What's the problem?"

"You're gonna think I'm like a total spaz, but I kinda spilled diet Coke on my laptop."

"I don't think I can—"

"Oh no," Veronica gasped. "Please don't tell me that; my computer is like literally my life."

A long pause. "Well maybe I can recover some of the data from the hard drive."

"So you're gonna help me? Awesome sauce- you totally rock."

"You might want—"

She cut him off before he could back out. "You work at that computer place where Mac works, right? Should I come to you? I can totally come to you. Tonight maybe like after five?"

An audible sigh of surrender. "I'll meet you in the lobby at five thirty."

"See you then." Veronica hung up without giving him a chance to respond. _Really, Veronica- awesome sauce?_ She shook her head. _Now I just need to find a laptop I can destroy._

Opening Google she searched for refurbished laptops and found a computer store not far from the children's museum who specialized in selling reconditioned Apple laptops. She put the address into her phone. If she wanted to meet Logan and Wyatt for lunch, she would have to forego the trip to see Clarence Wiedman in person. Scrolling through her contacts, she found his direct line at Porcellian Security and hit the call icon.

Caller ID allowed him to answer with, "Veronica Mars."

"Echolls… But you already know that and _yet_ you conveniently forgot to tell Duncan before sending him to my house."

"Was the always composed Veronica Mars rattled?" He snickered. "I knew I should've planted a listening device first."

"It was a very boring conversation."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Too bad you'll never know." Her flippant response garnered a snort of laughter. _Note to self: check house for bugs_. "So… did you send Duncan to me just for the entertainment value or was there a reason you didn't handle this yourself?"

"I was working on something else."

_No longer at the Kane's beck and call?_ "And you thought of me? How sweet."

"As much as I'm enjoying this little tête-à- tête- was there something you wanted?"

"I want to run a security audit on Kane Software." When she'd broken into Porcellian Security for information to exonerate Trina —_the night Jake Kane tried to kill me_— Clarence kept her from a B&amp;E charge by claiming she was there to conduct a security audit. In the intervening years, Clarence had hired Mars Investigations to run the same kind of penetration tests on his other clients. Mac handled testing the computer systems and Veronica took care of the onsite security. It was a non-dangerous way to maintain her skills while keeping her maternity leave promise to Logan.

"You'll never get in."

She grinned. "I accept your challenge."

"I wasn't issuing— have you discussed this with Duncan?"

"Do I need to?" He might not have been issuing a challenge, but she was. Clarence never informed his clients in advance that he was going to run a security check because he didn't want them to alter their routines or change their systems. _Did Duncan Kane rate preferential treatment?_

Choosing an indirect answer to her question, he said, "I'll send the retainer agreement to your office this afternoon."

"You have the best ideas." She hung up without saying goodbye. If she got caught, the retainer wouldn't stop Lamb from arresting her —he took a perverse pleasure in handcuffing her and hauling her down to jail— but it would keep her from being charged.

She went back to Google and typed in 'board of directors Kane Software.' Publicly traded companies usually had their Board of Directors listed on their websites. Even if Kane Software hadn't updated their site —_poor form for a tech company_— Celeste Kane stepping down from the board and the voting of a successor would make financial news headlines.

The first search result was for the company's website. She clicked on the link, which took her directly to the page with the board. There were photos for each member with their name and title beneath. As expected, both Duncan and Charles Shepherd were on the board, but the newest addition was a shock. "Son of a bitch," Veronica muttered to the empty kitchen.

She slammed her laptop closed. _Easy, Veronica or the damaged computer you'll be showing to Nigel will be your own_. Leaving the laptop where it was, she picked up her cell and shoved it in her messenger bag. On her way out of the house, she snagged the BMW keys from the bowl by the front door. _It was a bribe_. Veronica smirked. She shouldn't be surprised that was the way they did things. _But what does it mean for the case?_ She pulled out of the driveway and headed for Kane Software.

The more she learned the less convinced she was that the accident had anything to do with espionage. Staging the car accident took planning and skill. They needed to bump Lisa's Toyota at just the right angle to make it spin out and time it perfectly for the red truck to broadside it. _Professional drivers_. She'd told Logan, _'it's more likely that Mac learned something,' _but if that was true than the location of the accident made no sense. Professional drivers would have waited until the Toyota reached the railroad overpass. _That drop would've killed both of them at the scene_. Or they would've picked an entirely different place; one where they could've crashed directly into the passenger side and Mac.

Her ring tone cut through the radio and Veronica pushed the answer button on the steering wheel. "Hello?"

"Veronica, it's Max." With the top down and the cars rushing past, it was difficult to hear him. Waiting for a break in traffic, she pulled to the side of the road and took the phone off hands free. There was still a lot of noise, but it was on his end.

"It's hard to hear you; where are you calling from?"

"Train station." There were rustling noises and then the background noise dimmed. "Is that better?"

"Are you going someplace?"

"No, I just didn't want to call you from the office."

_Cloak-and-dagger, much? _Veronica bit back the retort. He was doing her a favor —_an illegal favor_— and if he felt safer calling from the train station who was she to criticize. "Did you find something?"

"The Soongs are here on employment-based, second preference visas. I'm not sure what strings were pulled, but they got them fast and the visas allow them to work here permanently."

She could guess at the strings. "So they didn't file for citizenship?"

"They did and they didn't; normally you have to be a permanent resident for five years to apply for citizenship."

"Let me guess- more string pulling?"

"Looks that way. The application was filed early, but there's still a waiting period." Veronica sighed. It didn't completely rule out the Soongs, but their desire to become citizens made it unlikely they would double-cross their sponsors- their _influential_ sponsors with political connections and grease for the wheels.

"What about the patent?"

"Held by Kane Software."

That proved her suspicions; whoever controlled the interest in the company would control the interest in Smartpaper. "Anything on Lisa?"

"That's where things get interesting... no, not interesting- weird."

"Weird how? Like abducted by aliens weird?"

"That might be easier to explain."

His bits and pieces delivery was maddening. "Well don't leave me in suspense."

"I went all the way back to her birth at Northwest Hospital in Seattle; it's a complete, perfect paper trail. Birth certificate, school records, social security, tax returns- I've got it all."

"So what's the problem?"

"I think it would be better if I showed you."

Veronica waited for an opening and pulled back into traffic. "I can be to your office in twenty minutes."

"No! I mean, I…uh, I want to check something else. Can you meet me tomorrow morning? At Snooze on fifth around ten?"

"Sure." His squirrelly act was a little unnerving. "Is everything okay?"

An automated departure announcement drowned out the beginning of his reply. "—you tomorrow." Voices grew louder; there was the rumble of the train, the metallic grind of the brakes and then silence.

Veronica glanced at the phone. The _call ended_ message confirmed he was gone. She tossed the phone on the passenger seat. Now she regretted her mental complaint about his bits and pieces delivery. She'd rather go back to that than have to wait until tomorrow for information.

There was never a good time of day to travel the 5, but she was lucky and it didn't take long to reach Genesee Avenue. She took the exit ramp and made the turns that would bring her to Kane Software. It was almost noon. Logan probably wouldn't leave the museum until one, which gave her plenty of time to confront Duncan and still make it to the diner. She parked close to the door and got out of the car.

Marching past the receptionist, she didn't slow at the exclaimed, "You can't go up there." _Wrong, McFrosty- I can and I will_.

Not wanting to wait for the elevator, Veronica hustled up the stairs. She probably had five minutes to make it to Duncan's office before security reached her. _That was an overestimation_. The guard was quicker than she gave him credit for. Either that or she was slower than usual. He was at her side by the time her hand started turning the knob. Counting on him to not physically restrain a pregnant woman, she proceeded to push her way into the office.

"Sorry, Mr. Kane, I tried to—"

Duncan was on the phone, but he waved off security. The guard however remained unconvinced; accurately gauging Veronica's anger, his gaze skipped between her and Duncan.

"I hate to cut you off, but I'm going to have to call you back. My noon appointment" —he raised his eyebrows at her— "just arrived." He offered another apology and repeated his promise to finish their discussion later, before finally disconnecting the call. Turning to the guard, he reassured him. "It's okay Gregg, Veronica is a friend of mine." A skeptical look passed over Gregg's face, but he backed out of the office. Once the door closed behind him, Duncan asked, "We are still friends, right?"

They _used_ to be friends. "Why the hell didn't you tell me Stewart Manning is on the Board of Directors?"


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Duncan actually had the nerve to ask, "How is that important?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "Uh, maybe because the Mannings hate you?"

"Not enough to kill somebody."

His faith in the Mannings didn't mirror hers. People were capable of anything given the right set of circumstances and the proper motivation. The list of Kane family secrets and sins was enough fodder for a network television series and yet Duncan was still clueless. His ability to see things the way he wanted to see them was astounding. Sighing, she sat in one of the visitor chairs.

"I assume your mother gave him stock too." At his nod, she asked, "how much?"

A shrug. "Eighty million shares?"

When he showed up at the house to enlist her help, he told her, _'my mom really pushed for me to come home; she's the one who worked things out with the Mannings'; _so it shouldn't surprise her that Celeste's way of "working things out" was with a board seat and stock. _After all, money is the go-to solution for all the Kane's problems —_she smirked— _money and murder_.

"Were they Class B, super-voting shares?"

His eyes widened in surprise at her knowledge and it ticked her off, but not as much as his, "Someone was paying attention in FBLA." It was the same mocking tone that angered Logan.

"Just answer the question Duncan."

"Yes, they were part of her Class B shares." He started clearing papers off his desk. "I don't see the big deal; there are eight billion shares of Kane Software- it's only one percent."

But with ten votes each it was more like _ten_ _percent_ of control. Veronica needed to call Tomás. "Is Celeste selling the rest of her shares?"

"Yes and no. She's transferring a bulk of them to Laurel and selling the rest. She doesn't want to be part of Kane Software anymore." His mouth twisted into a grimace of disapproval. "I don't think she _ever_ wanted to be part of the company; she just wanted my dad to pay for—"

There were too many ways to finish that sentence, but from Duncan's abrupt silence and deep flush, Veronica knew he was going to say _Lianne._ That was a discussion she would have with Duncan- _never_. "Giving her shares to Laurel?"

A look of relief crossed his face and he nodded. "She's putting them in Laurel's trust."

Veronica frowned. "Who are the trustees?" They would have the power to vote Laurel's shares.

"I'm the sole trustee."

Her cell chimed with an incoming text; it was from Logan and read: _lunch? _She typed out a quick _give me an hour_ and hit send. "Does anyone else have super shares?"

"No, just Celeste, Laurel and me… and now Stewart."

It was blunt, but there was no delicate way to ask so she forged ahead. "Duncan, if something happens to you, who are the successor trustees and who gets custody of Laurel?"

"Stewart and Rose." A forced chuckle, "I better hope I don't die, right?"

"Was that part of the 'deal' to bring you home?" She used air quotes around the word _deal_. The pieces were coming together and they weren't creating a pretty picture.

"It's complicated, but yes. They get visitation rights and if something happens to me, they get full custody."

His blasé attitude about Laurel's custody irked her. Appointing guardians for Wyatt was a decision she and Logan had wrestled with for _months_ and here was Duncan acting like it was inconsequential. He'd read Meg's emails to Child Protective Services, he'd _seen_ Grace in that closet and yet he was still willing to risk it. "Meg—"

"Isn't here."

Her lips pursed in disapproval. She couldn't decide if he agreed simply for the selfish reason of wanting to come home or if he really believed nothing would happen to him while Laurel was still a minor. _Probably both_. Again, he was being naive- seeing the world the way he wanted it to be instead of facing reality. _Meg would not be happy_. She sighed. _There's nothing you can do about it, Veronica_.

"Could Stewart have stolen the Smartpaper drawing?"

He shook his head. "He doesn't come here and he's got no access to the lab."

If that was true, someone else needed to steal the drawing. _Stewart has an accomplice; now the question was who? _Getting up from her chair, she slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. "What time's the party on Saturday?"

"Eight." Duncan scribbled an address on a Post-it note and handed it to her. "It's at my new house."

She barely glanced at the paper; her focus still on the case and the accomplice. "Who told you Microtech was working on a bendable phone?"

"Rick…no, wait" —he frowned— "It was either Jim or Nigel." A one-shouldered shrug, "Someone in R&amp;D."

As Stewart's contemporary, her first choice would've been Charles Shepherd, but if the Microtech rumor came from the R&amp;D department that ruled him out. Veronica gave Duncan an absentminded nod and headed for the door.

"Are you still taking Laurel bowling? She's looking forward to it."

"Friday at five." she confirmed. "Should we pick her up here?" Veronica waved the Post-it.

"No, we'll still be at the Grand. We won't move in until after the party."

"Okay." Pulling open the door, she started to leave.

"Uh, it was nice to see you too Veronica; stop by anytime."

Without comment, she let the door close on his sarcastic goodbye. If her theory was right and Stewart was only pretending to steal Smartpaper then his accomplice would've been the one to start the Microtech rumor. That left the three people Duncan mentioned: Rick Abbott, head of the department and possibly the person responsible for Mac working that Saturday; Jim Soong, computer engineer and head of the project; and, Nigel Clark, computer programmer who knew Mac and could've known she worked for Mars Investigations. _Did any of them have a connection to the Mannings?_

On her way past the reception desk, she ignored the contemptuous glare from McFrosty. The security guard was back at his post by the entrance. Veronica paused long enough to offer him a smile.

"Don't worry, Gregg; he's still in one piece," she informed him before sailing through the glass doors. Getting in the car, she started the engine and pulled from the lot.

There was definitely more going on at Kane Software than faked espionage. Veronica was sure that Stewart Manning was planning to take over the entire company and he needed his granddaughter to do it. Once the transfer of shares happened, was he going to sue for custody of Laurel and control of her trust? Or were his plans more sinister? Just how seriously was Stewart taking the _show no pity; life for life, eye for an eye_ passages in the Bible?

Her luck held and the traffic on the 5 was still moving at a rapid clip. Taking the exit for Front Street, she followed the GPS as it took her to Cedar and then to the turn for Fourth Avenue. Even without the GPS it would be hard to miss the computer store. Its concrete front was painted a bold orange with its name plastered above and across the plate-glass windows in bright blue letters. There was metered street parking and Veronica found a spot midway down the block under a flowering jacaranda tree. She needed to make this quick; she'd used more than half of the hour she asked Logan for and she didn't want to leave them waiting in the diner for too long.

The bold color choices continued inside the shop with walls the same shade as a ripe kiwi. A counter with open laptops ran along one wall and a lone guy was sitting on a high black stool fiddling with the laptop on the end. He looked up as she entered. "Can I help you?"

"I need a laptop."

"You've come to the right place" —he smiled— "What did you have in mind?"

_Something I can ruin with a can of soda. _"Something cheap." From his lack of reaction she guessed that was a standard customer request. He started to ask her about RAM and what size hard drive she needed and which programs she used. In order to cut this short, Veronica conjured up Amber. "Uh, do you like have any pink ones?"

It was enough to make him realize that she didn't care about its specifications only its color and price. He showed her a thirteen inch Macbook Pro and put a see-thru pink case on the counter next to it. "Apple laptops don't come in colors."

"Bummer." The price tag for the reconditioned laptop wasn't cheap and she was reluctant to spend close to a thousand dollars. _You're not really paying for it, Veronica- Duncan is_. She handed him the Mars Investigations credit card.

He studied it and her; afraid it was a fake. It was the first time during the entire exchange he seemed unsure. "Do you have photo ID?"

Veronica handed him her license. It was good to know that Amber would never pass as a private investigator. Between her airhead act and a disguise hopefully Nigel would be too busy with the computer to pay attention to her. She signed the charge slip and put the receipt in her wallet for the expense report before returning to the car.

The Corvette Diner was at the edge of a section known as Liberty Station; designated a historic place, it was the site of the former Naval Training Center. Logan liked to bring the baby down here to play in the waterfront park and watch the planes. When Veronica suggested he bring Wyatt to see the USS Midway, he declared he'd had enough of aircraft carriers for awhile and he'd wait until she was older.

She frowned. It wasn't that she didn't believe him. He'd had two years to think through his decision to not reenlist. And, for as much as he loved the Navy, he hated being away from Wyatt. His last deployment had been rough for him; letter writing and emails were not ideal communication methods for a baby. So she understood his reasoning, but sometimes making a choice was easier than living with the reality of it. Veronica shook her head. Logan's therapist, Dr. Feelgood, would tell her she was creating problems where none existed. _This is where he wants to be_.

Making the left on Decatur, she drove past the diner and made another left into its parking lot. She put the laptop in the trunk and traversed the lot to the restaurant. The diner itself was all chrome and neon and noise. With waitresses in poodle skirts and beehive hairdos, an actual soda fountain and a classic blue and white Corvette in the center of the restaurant, it was Fifties kitsch. Veronica walked past the hostess station and circled around the Corvette. Logan and Wyatt were sitting side by side in a booth near the DJ. As she got closer she could hear their conversation.

"This many." Wyatt held up one finger.

Logan shook his head. "That was your last birthday." She studied her hand and then held up all five fingers making him laugh. "Whoa, let's not rush time okay." Gently, he folded down three of her fingers. He tapped her fingertips and counted aloud. "One, two."

Wyatt giggled and popped all five fingers back up. "This many."

Enfolding her hand in his, he placed a kiss in the center of her palm. He raised his eyes and caught Veronica watching them. "Look who's here, Jellybean."

The baby turned her head and shouted, "Mama!" It was loud enough to be heard over the doo wop music and made half the diners turn in their direction, but Veronica didn't care. She relished the joy on Wyatt's face caused by her arrival.

Leaning over, she kissed the top of her head. "Did you have fun at the museum?"

Wyatt nodded. "Look," she shoved a misshapen lump of clay into Veronica's hands. It had streaks of yellow and black paint with black pipe cleaners sticking from its middle. "A bum bee."

"A bumble bee just like my baby; I love it." Smiling, she ducked down to give Wyatt another kiss. "It's very pretty." Sugar packets littered the empty side of the booth preventing her from sitting down. Veronica scooped them up and dumped them on the table.

"We were playing sugar bowl," Logan explained.

"Say what now?"

He moved the napkin holder and the ketchup bottle to the edge of the table. Then he took a sugar packet and flicked it across the Formica surface; it sailed between the chrome holder and Heinz ketchup landing on the booth seat. Wyatt raised both her arms in the air and yelled, "Tore!" _Score_, Logan gave the baby a high five.

Veronica bit her lip to keep from smiling and shook her head. "I think _you're_ this many," she wiggled five fingers at him before picking up the sugar packet and sliding into the booth.

His smile was unabashed. "How did it go with Nigel?"

"Amber is meeting him later with her damaged laptop." She moved the napkins and ketchup out of the way. "Menus?"

"I already ordered for you- plain grilled chicken over a garden salad with a glass of ice water." At her look of dismay, he chuckled. "Relax, Mars; I got you the California Dreamin' and your milkshake."

"Mmm." The burger was one of her favorites; made with guacamole, green chilies and pepper jack cheese. "Fries or onion rings?"

"Both."

"You're a good man, Charlie Brown." Wyatt was kneeling in her seat still trying to flick her finger against her thumb and hit the sugar packet. Veronica tilted her head toward the baby. "Why no high chair?"

"She needs to be free." She raised a questioning eyebrow at the reason, but Logan didn't elaborate; he just smiled and said, "Wait and see."

The waitress brought their food; two California Dreamin' burgers and for the baby, a grilled cheese sandwich. In addition to the double order of fries and onion rings, he'd also ordered the boneless Buffalo wings and fried pickle appetizers. "I think I'm in love."

Logan smirked. "With me or the food?"

Echoing his earlier answer, she replied, "Both," and popped a fried pickle in her mouth. The waitress returned with two milkshakes and their side cars— the metal tin with the excess— and set them down in front of Veronica. One was the peanut butter, chocolate, and banana; the other was the Elvis- peanut butter, banana and marshmallow. "I take it back; I'm _definitely_ in love."

He tapped one of the glasses. "You know this one is mine and Wyatt's, right?"

"Shucks," Veronica said, snapping her fingers.

The DJ announced the Corvette Diner dancers as Wilson Pickett's _Land of 1000 Dances_ began to play. The wait staff lined up in front of the soda fountain and started shaking blue and yellow pom-poms.

"Me dance too," Wyatt slid off her seat disappearing under the table. She duck-walked out from beneath the booth in time for _do the alligator_. After watching the waitresses, she copied them. First, holding out her arms and clapping them together like an alligator's jaw and then rocking her hips from side to side. Her movements were a step behind and completely out-of-sync with the music, but they were adorable.

Veronica grinned and glanced at Logan who was recording the dance on his cell phone. When they got to the _na, na-na na-na_ part of the song, Wyatt put her arms in the air, turned in a circle and wiggled her butt making the yellow tutu shake. Veronica was sad to see the song end.

Logan stopped recording and leaned over to help Wyatt climb back on the bench. "Are you hungry after all that dancing?"

Wy nodded and stared at her sandwich. Her gaze moved to Logan's burger, then to the French fries and settled on the milkshake. It didn't take a genius to see where this was heading. She pushed away her plate. "No want."

Picking his battles, Logan cut his burger in half and scraped off the guacamole and chilies. He swapped the half burger for her grilled cheese and added a few fries to Wyatt's plate. She smiled at him, her face beaming and Logan kissed her nose. "Now eat your lunch."

"Okay Daddy." She picked up the burger and took a big, showy bite. "Mmm."

He averted his face so she wouldn't see him grin at the over-the-top demonstration. "So… what did Amber do to her laptop?"

"Oh my God, I like totally spilled my Diet Coke on it."

Pausing with the burger halfway to his mouth, he asked, "What happens when he sees you at Celeste's party and you're not Amber?"

"I'm like totally gonna wear a disguise, natch."

There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Knee high socks and a plaid mini-skirt?"

"Maybe," she teased.

He tried to cover his groan by taking a bite of his burger and slowly chewing. "Your mystery woman from the photo wasn't at the museum."

"Of course not, that would be too easy." Veronica took a bite of her own burger and sipped her milkshake. "What about Vanessa?"

"She was there." Downcast eyes and a glum tone could either mean he didn't find out anything or he was sorry he did.

He checked Wyatt's lunch progress. The burger was only missing that first bite, but she'd finished her fries and was nibbling on a piece of grilled cheese as her gaze skipped around the diner. Logan added a few more fries to her plate and poured some milkshake into his empty water glass. Wyatt didn't even notice; she was too busy watching the other customers and tracking the waitresses to pay attention to her parents.

Logan briefly rested his hand on the top of her head before turning back to Veronica. "She was completely fuck—" He grimaced at his word choice. "Completely wasted."

"Are you sure?"

"Should we review my qualifications?" —he smirked— "Child of an addict, dated an addict, was an addict." The offhand comment and glib tone belied his agitation. "Yes I'm sure and, if I wasn't, the two trips to the bathroom and the resulting gossip would've eliminated any doubt." He glanced at Wyatt. Turned around in her seat, she was half-standing, half-kneeling and peering over the back of the booth. "She was using _coke_ on a trip to the museum with her _child_."

Veronica frowned. Lisa got it wrong. Their client wasn't just interested in the trust fund; he was actually worried about his child and with good reason. If Vanessa was using coke during day trips with her son and _driving_ under-the-influence with him in the car, what else was she doing? "Now we need proof for the Court."

Logan nodded. "I made a play date for the kids at her house."

"No," she shook her head. "You can't take our—"

"Veronica, do you really think I'd bring Wyatt?"

She had to admit that didn't sound like something Logan would do. "Then how are you going to show up for a child's play date without said child?"

"Well, see I have this bitch of an ex-wife who at the last minute decided I couldn't have my daughter for the day." He batted his eyes at her. "Vanessa and I bonded over how truly terrible our exes are."

"Bonded, huh? I thought you weren't even going to talk to her?"

"I wasn't." His lips thinned and the muscles in his jaw tightened. "But we can't just leave her kid with her, we need to do something."

"Okay," she conceded. "What's your plan?"

"We'll commiserate for awhile and I'll plant cameras around her house."

She smiled. "See? I told you - best husband ever."

"Yeah, but only you would be jazzed about her husband pretending to be her ex, calling her a terrible bitch and going on a date with another woman."

"Subterfuge and illegal spying are the ways to this girl's heart." With her straw, Veronica slurped up the last of her shake and looked at his. "And sharing your milkshake of course."

"Of course." Logan pushed his glass closer to her. "What time is Amber meeting Nigel?"

"Five thirty." She transferred her straw to his shake. "Max called me; he wants to meet tomorrow to show me what he's found on Lisa. He says it's weird."

"Weird how?"

"He wouldn't tell me." Her petulance garnered a grin from Logan. "Your lack of compassion makes me not want to share the identity of Kane Software's new board member."

"But you will anyway." Wyatt was now on her feet and starting to jump on the bench. Shifting in his seat, Logan picked her up and sat her on his lap. Before she could protest the interruption in her jumping, he gave her another quarter of her grilled cheese. "New board member?" He prompted.

"That's not fair - I can't resist you when you're holding Wyatt."

"Good to know." He rested his cheek on the top of the baby's head and smiled at Veronica, ratcheting up the irresistibility factor.

She tossed up her hands in mock surrender. "Fine… it's Stewart Manning. Celeste gave him her seat and some stock so he wouldn't protest Duncan's plea bargain."

"That makes more sense than the Mannings just really wanting to see their granddaughter."

Veronica smirked. "I _knew_ you were eavesdropping on our conversation by the pool… why don't you believe they wanted to see Laurel?"

"If it was completely altruistic, why not reach out to Duncan before now? They had to know his family was helping him. Stewart could've gone to Jake or Celeste at any time to plead their case, but no… they were only interested because of the money."

"That's sad." She shook her head. "Laurel really won the genetic lottery with both sets of grandparents, didn't she?"

Doleful eyes accompanied his sigh. "At least Wyatt has your dad."

That was something Logan wasn't looking forward to - their daughter being old enough to ask questions about Aaron, Lynn, and Lianne: an abusive, child-molesting murderer, a pill popping suicide victim, and an alcoholic. _Wyatt didn't really win the grandparent lottery either_.

"Does Stewart being on the board have anything to do with the accident?"

"I don't know, maybe? Celeste is putting the rest of her stock into a trust for Laurel. So as her guardian, Duncan will have control of those super voting shares."

"But if the Mannings sue for custody…"

Veronica nodded. "They could petition the Court for guardianship of her _and_ her assets."

"Would that be enough to force Duncan from the company?"

"It might, but what if they had a different plan? If something happens to Duncan, not only do his shares go to Laurel, but Stewart and Rose get custody of her."

"Wait, are you saying he plans to _kill_ Duncan?"

"Think about it. If Lisa or Mac stumbled across a murder plot, it would be a better motive for the accident than a corporate takeover." A contract killer would be able to stage the crash to look like an accident and if Stewart already had one on speed dial for Duncan, why not use him twice?


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

_We should warn Duncan,_ was the last thing Logan told her before they parted ways in the diner parking lot. She didn't disagree with him, but what were they supposed to warn him about exactly? If Stewart Manning was going to try to kill Duncan and make it look like an accident, how could he guard against that? Lisa was a trained detective with experience and if she wasn't able to protect herself, how could Duncan? Veronica called Clarence instead.

"Twice in one day? To what do I owe this honor?"

She got right to it. "I think Stewart Manning might try to kill Duncan."

His laughter rumbled across the line. When she didn't say anything, he immediately sobered. "Even for you, that's a pretty wild accusation."

Veronica took exception to the _even for you_ comment, but she resisted the urge to push back. She sketched in a few details about faked espionage, Celeste dumping her stock, and the custody of Laurel. "With Duncan dead, Stewart and Rose would get their granddaughter _and_ Kane Software."

There was a long silence while that registered and it was a more subdued Clarence who responded with, "I'll arrange for personal security."

Her obligation for Duncan's safety now satisfied, she said her goodbyes and exited the freeway. While she was positive the Mannings were behind the espionage, she was less sure about their involvement with the accident. It was still possible for the crash to be the result of Lisa's weird background, but the investigation itself was gathering speed. Logan used the term "jazzed" and it was an apt description for how she felt when the momentum started to flow on a case.

She made the turn on Adams, drove past the 09er club and continued to Mars Investigations. After slipping into her reserved spot, she retrieved the laptop from the trunk and headed inside. Paige was at her desk and greeted Veronica with a slight smile. It was an improvement from her condition on Monday.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." She held up a creamy linen business-sized envelope. "A messenger dropped this off for you."

Veronica took it from her and glanced at the return address: Porcellian Security. "Thanks." She inclined her head toward Keith's office. "Is my dad in?"

Paige nodded. "He's with a client."

"Let me know when he's done, okay?" Veronica opened the retainer agreement from Clarence. The page long document was standard boilerplate prepared in duplicate. She gave it a cursory read, signed the bottom of both sheets and handed them back to Paige. "Put one in the Kane Software file and return the other to Porcellian."

"By messenger?"

In preparation for Saturday's party, she planned to break into Kane Software Friday night after bowling. If she got caught, it would be a good idea for Clarence to have an original in hand when he showed up at the Sheriff's Department to get her released. "Overnight mail works."

Veronica carried the laptop to the kitchen. After putting the pink case on the computer, she plugged it in and retrieved a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. She waited until it finished booting and poured the entire can across the keyboard. According to her Internet search, the first steps to saving your laptop after spilling liquid on it were to unplug and then remove the battery. She did neither. Soda was a corrosive and she waited for it to eat its way through the circuitry. There was a little sizzle and a spark before the screen went blank. Veronica pulled the plug and blotted the keyboard with paper towels. Tilting it on its side, she let the excess liquid drain into the sink. Leaving it there to dry, she went back to reception.

The overnight mail package was prepared and waiting on the counter for pickup and Paige was typing a client report. Of the staff, Paige was probably the person who spent the most time with Lisa. Paige knew which cases they were working, kept track of their schedules, and answered all the phones. "Has Lisa's family called the office yet?"

Without a pause in her typing, Paige shook her head. "Your dad asked me the same thing this morning."

"Have they ever called the office?"

That question made the typing cease. A frown marred Paige's forehead while she thought about her answer. "I don't think so."

It didn't have to mean anything. When Logan called, he usually chose to use her cell. If her dad or Mac needed her, they just walked into her office. _Wallace_ called here, but —Veronica smirked— that had more to do with Paige. "Does…_did_ she get any personal calls?"

"I could check." As part of her answer, Paige held up the phone book; it created a duplicate slip for every message.

Veronica hesitated. It would take forever to go through all the books for the past two years. Mac had wanted to computerize the system, but Keith was still partial to paper. "Just check the last few months."

While she waited for Paige to go through the books, Veronica used her key to unlock the supply closet next to the kitchen. The walk-in held assorted disguises and uniforms plus their surveillance equipment. She decided on a long, black wig with bangs and a pair of green contact lenses for Amber's appointment with Nigel and then turned her attention to the cameras.

Logan was a master flirt. There was no doubt he'd be able to keep the trophy wife engaged and entertained, but that didn't mean he'd have time to wire her entire house. She took down the black plastic toy car and the Lego block. The pinhole cameras in each were attached to SIM cards, which would allow her to call them with her cell in order to access the video. The car would make a nice gift for junior and the Lego could be dumped with the rest of his toys. Veronica picked out three additional wireless cameras; each powered by a standard 9-volt battery. They would be easy for Logan to hide and their wide angle would give a complete view of a normal size room.

Backing out of the closet, she relocked the door and eyed the plant on Paige's desk; a lush Chinese Evergreen Maria nestled in a round wicker basket. Veronica took the plastic pot from the basket and installed the camera making sure its view was unobstructed. Returning the plant, she studied it from different angles and determined it was unnoticeable. _A gift for junior and Vanessa_. She would test it out later with Logan.

Paige was staring at her.

"Am I going to owe you a plant?" Veronica asked.

She shook her head. "No, it belongs to the office."

It looked like she wanted to say more. Veronica waited, but whatever Paige was going to say was lost when Keith exited his office with a new client in tow. They paused at the front desk and Keith introduced Veronica as his partner. Being partners with her dad in Mars Investigations was definitely better than making partner at any law firm. She exchanged pleasantries with the client and waited for her to depart before turning to Keith. "Cheating spouse?"

He nodded. "Our bread and butter."

It was a little disturbing how truly accurate that statement was. _Can't anyone keep it in their pants?_ "You have a few minutes?"

"I suppose I could make time for my number-one daughter." Keith draped an arm around her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You look tired kiddo."

"Number one granddaughter is a restless sleeper who likes sharing the big bed with Mommy and Daddy."

Keith grinned. "Enjoy it while it lasts because one day she'll be grown and you'll have to schedule an appointment just to see her." He gave her a pointed look.

"Uh, I believe _you're_ the one trying to fit me into your busy schedule." Veronica put her disguise and the spy cameras in her messenger bag.

He checked his watch. "And you're eating into your time with sarcasm."

"That wasn't sarcasm; that was what you call a snide remark." She shook her head. "Love is making you soft, old man."

"Says the original marshmallow."

Veronica rolled her eyes and followed him into his office. She dropped onto the couch leaving her messenger bag at her feet. She _was_ tired. Her pregnant body was used to taking afternoon naps with Wyatt not chasing down bad guys. "Have you tried calling Lisa's family again?"

"I left another message for Scott, but no call back."

Lisa's brother was listed as the emergency contact on her personnel file, but he was proving to be an unreliable choice. "Still no answer at the parents' house?"

"No." His brow furrowed in consternation.

"Maybe they're on vacation?" The injected bit of hopefulness sounded false even to her. The vacant house and lack of return calls were worrisome. "I'm going to check out their house tomorrow."

His grim expression said he knew exactly what she meant by _check out_, but he withheld comment. "Any progress with the espionage?"

"It was faked." Veronica gave him a rundown on the case along with her ideas about the Mannings. "The suing for custody and taking over the company feels right to me, but the accident?" She shrugged. "Not so much."

"You'll figure it out, you always do."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." She frowned. "Did Lisa ever talk to you about her family?"

Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head while he considered the question. "Once or twice, but it was pretty generic stuff- something about being a late in life baby and that there was a big age difference between her and Scott. Seven years? Eight?"

That lined up with Veronica's assumption when she went through the photos from Lisa's shoebox. "So no funny childhood anecdotes or coming of age stories?"

"Coming of age? I didn't realize we hired Harper Lee."

Veronica smiled. "A literary reference? Did you run out of sports metaphors and classic rock songs?"

"Dottie is insisting that I expand my horizons."

"Smart woman." She stood. "And speaking of Dottie, are you still making with the fake breakfast runs or are you ready to confess to living together?"

His innocent expression was almost as good as Logan's. "When did I ever make fake breakfast runs?"

"Do you want a list?" Veronica picked up her bag. "You didn't fool me then and you're not fooling me now."

"She has her place and I have mine and that's all I'm going to say on the subject. I'm still the parent, you know."

"In case you missed it, I know all about the birds and the bees and where babies come from." She patted her belly.

"The stork still brings them, right?"

"Yep, the stork." Veronica kissed his bald pate and headed for the door. "I'll call you tomorrow if I have any luck with Lisa's parents."

Paige was at the photocopier with the message book. "Almost done."

"Were there a lot of calls?" Veronica's question was steeped in disappointment as she felt a potential lead shrivel.

"A few." Paige handed her three sheets of paper with four messages on each. "These are all the names I didn't recognize; they might not be personal, but I thought you'd want them anyway?" Her voice rose, turning the statement into a question.

Not wanting to dampen her enthusiasm, Veronica smiled. "I do; thanks." She added the sheets to her messenger bag and went to retrieve the damaged laptop from the kitchen. After putting the computer in a plastic shopping bag, she grabbed the evergreen from the corner of Paige's desk and left the office.

She didn't bother with the freeway and its inevitable traffic. It wasn't a long drive on the surface streets and she wanted to spend some time with Logan and Wyatt before heading to meet Nigel.

Getting information out of a person was never a problem; it was getting the information you _wanted_ that was hard. Interrogating someone was an art. Sometimes she could plan ahead, if she knew what information she was looking for, but sometimes she needed to play it as it lay. Tonight's meeting with Nigel would be the latter. Pretending to be the ditzy Amber would help him relax, but it would also increase the difficulty. All her questions needed to feel like a natural part of the conversation —organic to their discussion— and there was no way to prepare for that.

Veronica pulled into the driveway. Leaving the laptop behind, she gathered her things and carried them into the house. It was quiet, _too quiet,_ and the atmosphere was tense. She dumped her things on the hall table and walked into the middle of a western showdown in her living room. Wyatt and Logan were squared off and Veronica could almost hear the cowboy whistle of Ennio Morricone's _Il Buono, Il Brutto, Il Cattivo_. Wyatt's lips were puckered in a serious pout, her arms were folded across her chest and her eyebrows were drawn together in a deep frown making her brow furrow. In contrast, Logan's expression was completely neutral and he was holding a deceptively innocent-looking box of crayons.

"Me color." It was so emphatic Veronica was waiting for a little accompanying foot stomp that didn't materialize.

"No more coloring today."

"Yes." And there was the stomp.

Reaching up, Logan set the box of crayons on top of the bookshelves far enough from the edge that they couldn't be seen. The disappearing Crayolas made Wyatt start to cry and he picked her up. Kissing the top of her head, he rubbed her back. "We color on paper remember?"

Not wanting to be consoled by him, she squirmed in his arms and pushed at his shoulder until he put her down. Turning around, she raced across the room and threw herself at Veronica. "Me color."

_If one parent says no, try the other one- divide and conquer_. "I think" —she wiped Wyatt's tears— "You should go get Cuddles from your room and have some quiet time with Mommy."

"No." Another foot stomp.

"Okay." Veronica left her standing there and crossed the room. "Someone's C.R.A.N.K.Y - did she have a nap?"

Logan shook his head. "She slept for a bit in the car, but woke up as soon as we got home and has been like this ever since."

"What started it?"

"She wanted to S.W.I.M. and I said no- the coloring was a distraction."

"That worked out well huh?" She glanced back at Wyatt. The crying had ceased, but the pouting still remained. Veronica was sure her unhappiness at this point was less about not getting her way and more about her tantrum being ignored.

"Let me show you how well." Logan took her hand and led her into the dining room. Sheets of paper were tossed on the floor and there were crayon scribbles on the seat of a chair, the wall, and across the white, dry-erase board. Deep, angry marks from an overtired toddler who wanted to swim not color. "Literally, two minutes- I went to get a coloring book."

"To be fair" —Veronica tapped the dry-erase board— "This does look like a big sheet of white paper."

"Funny you didn't seem to feel the same way when she used your makeup to paint on the white sheets. I distinctly remember an elbow to my midsection when I suggested the sheets looked like canvas."

The memory made her groan. "We're already outmatched," she pressed her forehead into his chest. "What are we going to do when there's two of them?"

Logan kissed the top of her head. "Use the same sheets as a flag of surrender." Taking a step closer to the doorway, he leaned backward and turned his head in the direction of the living room.

"What's she doing?"

"Building a lair and plotting world domination." He put his pinkie against his lips. "You're going to have to pay me… one hundred billion dollars."

Veronica smirked. "I guess evil medical school is _still_ medical school, right?"

Smiling, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. "Are we ready to go back into the fray?" She shook her head and he chuckled. "Is Veronica Mars hiding from a toddler?"

"Not just any ordinary toddler- _our_ toddler; she has special Mars-Echolls superpowers."

"Come on, I can't see her anymore." Taking her hands, he tugged her from the room.

"So why is your crime fighting whiteboard in from the garage?"

"I was going to use it to organize Lisa's newspaper—" Logan abruptly stopped talking when he saw Wyatt. She'd pushed her tiny, pink chair against the bookshelves and was standing on it. Reaching for the shelf, she gripped its edge with both hands and raised her leg to start the climb to her crayons.

"See superpowers," Veronica whispered.

"This...um, _persistence_ is all Mars."

She humphed. "If so, then the _defiance_ is all Echolls."

"We're screwed," Logan muttered. Before Wyatt could plant her foot on the shelves, he slid his hands around her middle and lifted her off the chair.

"No, no, no," Wyatt howled as she kicked her legs in protest.

"So are you good here?" Veronica asked as she inched toward the door. "You can totally handle this without me, right? Don't need me at all." She scooped her messenger bag off the floor.

"Chicken," he scoffed. Sitting on the sofa, he cradled the baby against his chest and held her until she wound down. "Wyatt," his tone was low and soothing. "I know you want your crayons."

She pouted at him. "Me sad."

"I'm sorry you're sad." Logan rubbed her back until she let out a little sigh and laid her head on his shoulder.

Veronica dropped her bag and crossed the room to stand behind the sofa. Reaching over his shoulder, she flattened her palm over his heart and rested her head on his.

"I love you too, Veronica."

She smiled. The words came easier to her now, but in moments like this they weren't enough to contain her feelings. She kissed his cheek and the top of Wyatt's head. "I need to get ready."

"Go ahead. I'm gonna order a pizza and—"

"Pita?" Wyatt lifted her head from his shoulder. "With roni?"

Veronica left them debating their pizza toppings. Wyatt would push for pepperoni with extra cheese while Logan would order a healthy pie from Naked Pizza and sneak vegetables onto it. He'd tried the same trick with Veronica, but fortunately she wasn't two. After he got a cheese-less, grilled chicken and broccoli _something_, she'd suspended his pizza ordering privileges. _It's not pizza without the cheese_.

She started with the green contact lenses and makeup. Using a dark kohl pencil she lined her eyes and added a liberal amount of mascara. Hair and eye color were two of the first things people noticed and she wanted the green to stand out. The goal was for Nigel to remember a woman with black hair, green eyes, ample cleavage and not much else. She finished with a little shadow and applied a clear gloss to her lips.

A belly band helped to flatten her stomach and the black corset completed the task. Veronica put on a tailored, white, button-down shirt and left enough of the top buttons undone to show off the corset and said cleavage. _I feel like a Pussycat Doll_. A black and white plaid mini-skirt with zippers down the sides, black thigh-high tights and a pair of chunky suede ankle boots completed her outfit.

She pinned up her hair and added the black wig. It was the same cut and color as the one she wore that Halloween she and Logan dressed as The White Stripes, but this one was more expensive, made with real hair, and did not look like a wig. Veronica studied her appearance. _Totally worth the money._

When she walked into the living room, Logan was on the floor doing a puzzle with Wyatt. He glanced over his shoulder, turned his attention back to the puzzle and then his head whipped around.

Veronica chuckled. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Uh" —his tongue darted across his bottom lip— "I might have." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe you should come closer so I don't have to strain."

With the way he was staring at her, _closer_ would be dangerous. "I don't think so, Echolls."

A wicked smile as he bent his head in Wyatt's direction. "Aren't you going to kiss us goodbye?"

Logan's eyes stalked her movements as she circled the sofa and made her approach, carefully keeping the baby in between them. Wyatt had stopped playing with her puzzle and was staring at Veronica with a disconcerted frown. When she leaned over to kiss Wyatt, she scrambled off the floor and launched herself at Logan.

Her tiny barricade was gone. Veronica took a step closer and reached for the baby. "It's me sweet pea."

Wyatt pulled back, shook her head and buried her face in Logan's shoulder. "No Mama."

"I guess somebody doesn't like Amber."

"Well, it's not me." He slid his hand up the back of her leg and fingered the edge of the thigh-high stockings. "So can I still get a kiss?"

Veronica gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I won't be long."

She tried moving away, but Logan's hand on her thigh held her in place. "Wyatt might not want to play with Amber, but I do."

Nipping his ear, she pressed her lips against it and whispered, "That's the plan."

This time he didn't try to conceal his groan. She grinned and walked toward the front door with an extra sway to her hips. If she timed it right, she could be done with Nigel and home by the time he put Wyatt to bed. _Then he can put me to bed_.

After starting the car, she closed the top. It was too chilly to drive in this outfit with the top down and she didn't want to ruin its effect with a sweater. Cranking up the heat, she pulled out of the driveway. She suggested five-thirty in the hopes that most of the employees would be gone, but it put her travel time right at the start of rush hour.

Not bothering with the 5, she stayed on Torrey Pines Road. She would turn before the scene of Mac's accident, but she wondered if she'd ever be able to drive this road again without thinking about it. There were lots of ghosts in Neptune to haunt her, _too many_, and now Lisa had joined their ranks.

The twenty minute drive took her thirty, but she'd left herself extra time for traffic and a little reconnaissance. New wall-mounted security lights were positioned around the building at ten-foot intervals; they would illuminate all approaches and make it easy for the equally new CCTV cameras to record intruders. Veronica parked the car and took a brisk walk around the building noting camera placement and doors. She made it back to the front without being stopped by security. _You've underestimated me again, Clarence_.

Security guard Gregg was no longer at the front door and the reception desk was empty. A guy in jeans and a tee shirt was standing amidst the small cluster of chairs that a generous person might label a waiting room. His back was to the front door, but Veronica assumed he was waiting for her and she headed in that direction. Not-Gregg stopped her progress. "Can I help you miss?"

She held up the damaged laptop. "I'm here to see Nigel, uh…" She let her voice trail off like she'd forgotten his last name.

The brief exchange was enough to get Nigel's attention. He joined them at the door. "She's here to see me."

Veronica gave an excited squeal and hugged him. "Oh my God, I can't tell you how much this means to me." She smiled at the security guard. "This man is literally saving my life."

Both men appeared unsettled by her exuberance and their flustered reactions turned Veronica's fake smile into a genuine one. With a quick nod at her words, the guard moved away, returning to his post at the door while Nigel stumbled back a few steps.

Years of living with Logan taught her how to make even the most innocent question sound dirty. "Are we going to do it here?" The smirk from the security guard told her she nailed the inflection. "You know, fix my computer?"

Nigel's rapid blinking almost made her feel bad for him. "It's going to take awhile." The guard snickered increasing his discomfort. "What I… uh, mean is… uh," he stammered. "You need to…uh, leave it here."

Veronica pouted. "Couldn't we _try_ to do it now? I totally need it."

His gaze moved between her and the security guard. "Come with me."

She flounced down the hall behind him as he led her toward the R&amp;D Department. _There goes Duncan's 'all information is confidential' theory._ "So is this like a cool place to work?" When he didn't respond, she kept talking. "I bet you have to be like wicked smart to work here, huh?"

Nigel stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. He held his employee ID up to the access panel and waited for the RFID chip in the card to release the lock. It snicked open and Veronica followed him inside. They were in a mantrap: a small vestibule with interlocking doors. They couldn't proceed through to the next room until the door behind them closed, effectively locking them in. Veronica started to doubt the wisdom of following this potential murder accessory into a sealed and deserted lab. The door closed behind them with a dull thud.

Peering around Nigel's body, she watched as he entered a six-digit code into the next lock. The door slid open allowing them entry to the lab. The center of the room reminded Veronica of Mr. Wu's science lab, tall tables with black epoxy resin surfaces and high stools, but that's where the similarity ended. Computer workstations lined the circumference of the room and large servers were separated from the space by a wall of glass. Nigel held out his hand for the laptop and she passed it to him.

"How long have you known Mac?"

"Few years," was his mumbled response. He went straight to work, setting the computer down on the closest table and withdrawing a small screwdriver from one of the drawers. Veronica watched him remove the pink case, flip the laptop over and go to work removing the ten tiny screws.

"Did you guys meet here?"

"Yes." His hands stilled. "Where do you know Mac from?"

"High school." She wandered along the row of computers, trailing her fingers on the desktops and nudging the mice to wake the screens. They were either off or on the login screen.

"You went to Neptune High?"

"Yep." Nigel was doing better getting information from her than she was in questioning him. "So you and Mac, are you a thing?"

"I'm married."

"That's too bad, Mac deserves someone nice." Veronica returned to the table and sat on one of the stools. "Have you worked here a long time?"

"Since college."

"I didn't go to college." Nigel's expression said, _no kidding_. Putting her hand on the edge of the table, she pushed off and sent the stool spinning. "Guess I'd need a college degree to work here, huh?"

He shrugged. "The CEO doesn't have one."

Veronica stopped spinning. "Really? He like runs this whole place, right?"

"Don't get your hopes up; unless your last name is Kane, you're not getting a job here." Bitterness infused his words. _Finally, an opening_.

"He's always been a tool."

Nigel's gaze narrowed. "You know Duncan Kane?"

"_Of_ him." She pointed to herself. "Went to Neptune High, remember?"

He nodded and returned to the computer. He'd removed the back and started pulling components out. "This is really bad- see the corrosion?"

"Uh-huh." Putting her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in her palm. "So what's he like? Duncan? I hear he's single."

"He's an entitled, rich—" Nigel studied her. "Why all the interest in Duncan Kane?"

"Uh, rich _and_ single, duh."

He didn't even attempt to mask the censure in his gaze as it dropped to her exposed chest. "You're not his type."

_How would you know?_ His certainty on Duncan's _'type'_ piqued her curiosity, but she kept all signs of that interest from showing in either her face or her tone. "That must suck- being so smart and having a tool for a boss?"

"Things change," was his cryptic reply.

"Are you gonna like quit?"

Instead of answering, he waved his hand over the laptop. "This is a complete loss."

That's how she would've described this interview right up until his comments about Duncan. "Bummer." She sighed. "Well, thanks for trying."

"I'll walk you out." He asked if she wanted the ruined laptop and she assured him she did not. Nigel dumped it and handed her the case before leading her back to the lobby of the building.

At the door, she offered him another hug and slipped his employee ID card from his back pocket. _Just call me The Artful Veronica_. "Too bad _you're_ not single," she gushed. Leaning over, she smoothed her hand up her leg and covertly tucked the card into the top of her thigh-high tights. _With his card and access code, Friday's break-in just got easier_.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

No nap meant Wyatt was sound asleep by the time Veronica got home last night, but it also meant she was up way earlier than usual this morning. "Mama!"

Logan's back was pressing against hers. She nudged him with her elbow. "Your turn."

He mumbled— "Wants you" —into his pillow.

"Nooo," she groaned. "Too tired." The protest wasn't enough to make Logan budge neither was the rattling of the baby gate.

Before Wyatt could start clanking a tin cup against the bars and singing _Swing Low Sweet Chariot_, Veronica tossed back the covers and dragged her body from the bed.

"Mommy's coming." _Clothes_. She stumbled to the dresser, pulled on a pair of Logan's boxers and the first tee shirt she could find. Shuffling into the hall, Veronica opened the gate to free Wyatt and Cuddles from their prison. "Good morning, sweet pea."

Her head tilted. "Daddy?"

_You couldn't have asked for him first?_ "He's still sleeping."

She made a break for their bedroom and Veronica was too slow to stop her. Wyatt dashed to Logan's side of the bed, but instead of waking him, she nodded to herself and placed Cuddles on the pillow next to his head. Wyatt looked at Veronica and pressed her finger against her lips. "Shh, Daddy night-night."

It was very cute, but it gave Veronica pause. The rush to reassure herself that Daddy was home echoed her behavior of the past few days- always wanting to know where they were, not wanting to be apart from at least one of them, and the _'Mama and Daddy went bye-bye'_ bad dreams. Add in the offer of extra sleep and the gift of Cuddles and it felt like Wyatt was making a peace offering for her intractable behavior last night. _My poor sweet pea_.

She held out her hand for the baby and Wyatt skipped around the bed to take it. Once they were in the hall, Veronica shut the door and picked her up. "I love you, little one." Cuddling her close, she stroked Wyatt's hair and kissed her forehead. "Should we make breakfast in bed for Daddy?"

Her head bobbed. "Okay Mama."

Making breakfast with a toddler eager to help was setting herself up for twice the amount of work, but Wyatt was brimming with excitement at the idea of cooking for Daddy. She squirmed free from Veronica's arms and ran down the hall. At a much slower pace, she followed the baby into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A jar of salsa and the leftover refried beans from the Mexican takeout she got last night said Logan was having a modified version of huevos rancheros. She pulled the ingredients and sat Wyatt on the counter next to them.

"Did you have pepperoni on your pizza last night?"

She nodded. "No 'pinach."

"Daddy tried to put spinach on it?"

Wyatt screwed up her little mouth in a grimace of disgust. "Yuck."

Veronica silently agreed with her daughter's assessment of spinach on pizza- _yuck_. She peeled and pitted two avocados and put them in a plastic bowl for Wyatt to mush with her fingers. While the baby's hands were busy, she heated the beans and toasted the corn tortillas. Veronica tapped the side of the bowl. "I think that's good."

Wyatt shook her head. She was having too much fun squeezing the avocado in her fists and watching it ooze out from between her fingers. It was either the best job or the worst job to give her, Veronica couldn't decide. She put the tortillas on a plate and topped them with beans and Monterey jack cheese. Then she gave the baby a small paper cup of salsa to add to the avocado while she fried the eggs.

Veronica helped Wyatt scoop the mixture onto the tortillas then cleaned her hands and put her on the floor. After topping each tortilla with an over-easy egg, she added the plate to the breakfast tray and made Logan a cup of coffee. "What do you think sweet pea, tomato juice or orange juice?"

"B'own milk."

"Are you sure Daddy wants chocolate milk?"

Wyatt nibbled the tip of her finger while she considered the question and then offered a very definitive, "Yes."

Positive that her daughter was the one who wanted chocolate milk, Veronica made it in a sippy cup. She added it to the tray along with tomato juice for Logan and a plate of cheese-topped scrambled eggs for Wyatt. The two of them could have breakfast together while she got ready for her meeting with Max. "Okay, let's go wake up Daddy."

The baby pounded down the hall ahead of Veronica her speed set at full-tilt. "Hurry Mama."

Balancing the tray on her hip, Veronica opened the door. Wyatt rushed the bed; scrambling up and over the side before planting herself on Logan's stomach. He let out a soft _'oomph'_ at the sudden and unexpected weight. Veronica grinned. The baby's enthusiasm couldn't be contained in her tiny frame and she was _bouncing_ on his midsection.

"Time get up." She patted his cheek.

A slow smile crossed his face as he opened his eyes. _He smiles more_. Not the sardonic or thin-lipped humorless smirks he used when doling out his patented sarcasm, but genuine ones. They came easy to him now especially when he was around Wyatt. "Morning, Jellybean."

"Me make brea'fast." She pointed toward the tray Veronica was holding.

"For me?" He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her straight up in the air making her laugh. Tipping her forward, he brought their faces together and kissed her nose. "I'm going to sleep in every morning if it means having breakfast in bed with my Bean."

Veronica put the tray on his nightstand. "You better rethink that idea, _fast_."

"Somebody's grumpy" —he smirked— "Did you not get enough sleep?"

"You're poking the bear, Echolls," she warned. Bending over, she picked up his black pajama bottoms.

"I'm always up for a good poke." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she tossed the pants over his face hiding the suggestive leer. Taking Wyatt from him, she rounded the bed and fluffed up her pillows for the baby. Logan pulled on the pants, got out of bed and stretched making the lightweight jersey fabric hang dangerously low on his hips. He chuckled. "Eyes up here, Veronica."

"You're the one who mentioned a poke." She shrugged. "And it's been a while since I've had a really good one." _Eight whole hours_.

He gaped at her. "If you weren't holding Wyatt, I'd…"

"You'd what?" She shook her head. "Is the big strong man scared of a little baby?"

Growling, he walked across the mattress and hopped down next to her. Veronica tried to move away, but she wasn't fast enough. One of his arms snaked around her waist and the other scooped up her legs. He lifted them both from the floor and gently tossed them on the bed.

Wyatt erupted in a fit of giggles. "Do 'gain Daddy."

Logan reached for them and Veronica held up a hand to stop him. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Now who's scared?"

"Scared? Pssh." She waved him away. "I just don't want you to start what you can't finish."

"Oh, I'm going to finish." There was a wicked spark in his eyes. "_Later_."

"You'll know where to find me." She patted the mattress.

Pressing his fists into the mattress on either side of her, he supported his weight with his arms and slowly lowered his body until they were almost touching. His lips were so close she could feel his warm breath caress her face and she raised her head to complete the contact. Her mouth barely grazed his before he pulled back, smiling. "Later." He pushed himself off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Tease," she complained loudly enough for him to hear.

Daddy walking across the bed had inspired his daughter to do the same, but she wasn't so much walking as she was jumping. Veronica sat up and caught Wyatt mid-jump. "Me Tigger."

"Well, it's time for Tigger to have breakfast."

Wyatt glanced at the bathroom. "With Daddy?"

"He's coming back." The assurance was enough for Wyatt to settle herself. Veronica left the beverages on the nightstand and put the tray over the baby's lap. It was a little too tall for her; creating a weird angle and her first forkful of egg ended up on the pillows. _This is not going to be pretty_. Veronica grinned. _Logan's problem_.

"Hey, I thought that was _my_ breakfast."

"Snooze and lose."

He slipped his arms around her waist and rested his hands on her belly. "Did you and Hadley eat yet?"

"Hadley?"

"The first Mrs. Hemingway." He nuzzled her neck. "The Sun Also Rises is dedicated to her."

"That's it, no more Papa for you."

Letting her go, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and climbed into bed. There was more egg on the sheets than in Wyatt's stomach so Logan moved the tray, put the baby on his lap and settled the tray over both of them. "Are you going to have breakfast with us?"

Veronica shook her head. "I'll eat when I meet Max."

"Not hungry?" He frowned. "Or are you queasy again?"

"I'm fine." She pulled clothes from the dresser. "I just want to get an early start." On her way to the bathroom she paused by the bed to give him a kiss. "I'm going to stop by Lisa's parents on my way."

"Are you going to ring the doorbell and leave when there's no answer or are you picking locks and squeezing through doggie doors?"

She glanced down at her belly. "It's so romantic that you think I can still fit through a doggie door."

"That's me, all about the romance while you're—"

"Saving your ass by keeping you from finishing that sentence." Turning her back on his smirk, she continued on her path to the bathroom. The shower with its massaging jets beckoned her to linger, but she resisted its siren song and kept her showering to a minimum. _Take that, steamy luxury_.

She dried her hair, put it in a half-ponytail and added a touch of makeup to her face. Then she donned a pair of red boy shorts and matching bra before returning to the bedroom.

Breakfast was done and the tray was back on the nightstand. Logan was lying down and the baby was sitting comfortably astride his stomach. "Flying!" Wyatt stretched her arms out at her sides and made a long _whoosh_ noise.

Smiling at her plane impression, Logan brushed his fingers through her hair and tucked a piece behind her ear. His eyes flicked to Veronica's face. "Wy wants to go flying today." There was a questioning lilt to his voice as he sought her approval.

Swallowing the words _absolutely not_, Veronica forced a smile and said, "Have fun." She pulled on a printed silk tee shirt with long black sleeves, a scoop neck and an asymmetrical hem. "Are you going to call Jake?"

"Maybe… or maybe we'll stay closer to home and go swimming."

"'wimming!" Wyatt climbed off his stomach, slid from the bed and raced for the door.

"You didn't have to do that- distract her with swimming." Veronica perched on the edge of the bed and tugged on her stretch jeans. "You could've taken her flying."

Logan sat up and kissed her shoulder. "It's okay, I love overprotective Mama Bear." He left the bed, peeled off his pajamas and replaced them with a pair of swim trunks. "Besides" —he gave her a shit-eating grin— "I need to book flight time in advance."

She grabbed one of the pillows and he wisely hustled from the room before she could throw it at him. Shaking her head, she put on her sneakers. Not only did he dodge a face full of pillow, but he also managed to leave her with breakfast cleanup. Veronica stripped the egg-infested sheets from the bed and tossed them in the hamper. After making the bed with fresh sheets, she carried the tray into the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher.

The pool key was gone from the hook above the door, which meant they were already outside. She stepped onto the deck to say goodbye. Turning and floating was one of the first things Logan taught Wyatt to do as part of her safety skills and their little fish was already in the water floating on her back. "Daddy?"

"Right here, Bean."

She turned her head to look for him and her legs started to sink. She doggie paddled straight to him. Once his arms were around her, she smiled. "Bubbles?"

"Okay."

Logan waited for her to take a big breath and then let her go. She sunk beneath the surface and blew bubbles underwater. Veronica cringed. It was only for a few seconds, but _overprotective Mama Bear_ didn't like it. She was poolside by the time Logan pulled the baby from the water. He wiped Wyatt's face. "Good job."

"Daddy do."

Mimicking her deep breath, Logan sunk beneath the water and blew bubbles for her. When he surfaced, Wyatt wiped his face. "Good job Daddy."

He kissed the baby's fingers and shared a smile with Veronica over the cuteness of their daughter. "Leaving now?" Standing up with Wyatt, he waded through the water to the side of the pool.

Veronica nodded. "I should be home early." Leaning over she gave him a kiss. "Don't stay in too long okay? It's chilly."

"The water is a perfect eighty degrees- want to feel?"

Knowing her husband, she took a hasty step backward out of his reach and leveled him with a warning glare that only made him laugh. "Have fun with Daddy sweet pea."

"Bye-bye Mama." Wyatt blew a kiss at Veronica, which she returned before leaving them to their game of bubbles.

Walking back through the house, she grabbed her messenger bag and made sure she had the address for Lisa's parents. She locked the front door behind her and got in the BMW.

Neptune was still a town without a middle class and the divide between rich and poor was growing wider every day. The wealthy half with its beachfront homes and luxury mansions were buying up land and pushing the poor half so far from the water they were lucky to be able to _smell_ the ocean.

The Watsons were right on the edge. Their house sat on the border of advantaged and disadvantaged. A real estate agent would try to make it sound charming by calling it a 'bungalow', but Veronica called it ugly. A plain, white stucco rectangle with a small patch of mostly brown grass in front and a concrete driveway running along its length. _An empty driveway_.

Closed blinds on the two windows flanking the front door kept her from peeking inside. Veronica rang the bell and gave the door a few sharp knocks, but there were no answering sounds from within. Turning around, she surveyed the neighborhood. An absence of trees, shrubs, and fencing gave almost all the surrounding houses an unobstructed line-of-sight to the Watson's front door. Not wanting to take the chance of being observed breaking and entering, she circled the house looking for another point of entry.

A detached garage sat at the end of the drive. A quick tug on the handle of the rollup door confirmed that it was locked, but the entry door on the side had a large glass pane. Veronica pressed her face to the glass. A lawnmower and gardening equipment were in the back corner along with a few aluminum folding lawn chairs, but there was no car.

At the rear of the house was a single French door. It was uncovered and she could see all the way through to the front door. The narrow space consisted of a kitchen, a small dining area and then a postage stamp sized living room. Veronica guessed the archway in between the dining and living room spaces would lead to the bedrooms and bath. She tried the handle and the door swung open. _Not good_. "Hello?"

There was no response, but she wasn't expecting one; there was a stillness that only happened when a house was unoccupied. A fine layer of dust had settled over all surfaces and there were unwashed dishes in the sink. From the dried food particles on the Corelle plates, they'd been in the sink at least a few days. Veronica opened the fridge and the smell of rotting fish made her gag. She promptly shut the door and moved deeper into the house.

It was obvious that Lisa's parents were gone, but why? In her experience, people who went on vacation didn't leave dishes in their sink and perishables in their fridge. She walked through the archway into a hallway with three doors. The one directly across from her was the bathroom. She made a right and checked the room at the front of the house. It was setup like a small den with a red leather Barcolounger and an old-school television. There was no closet in the ten-by-ten space and the walls were bare.

Veronica backed out of the room and moved to the other bedroom. Again the walls were bare, but the remaining picture hooks said the starkness was a recent event. The only furniture in the room was a queen-sized bed, two end tables and a chest of drawers. Not all the drawers were completely closed and the closet door was wide open. She stared at the barren closet and then confirmed her suspicion that the dresser was equally empty. Kneeling on the hardwood floor, she checked under the unmade bed and found nothing but dust motes.

They left in a hurry, but with plenty of time to pack. Veronica gave the rest of the house a cursory search, but she didn't find anything. She assumed that they took everything personal and important with them when they fled. _Now I know why they haven't been in touch, but who and what are they hiding from?_

She left the house as she found it and returned to the car. The one thing the poor section of town had going for it was its easy proximity to the freeway. Veronica hopped on the 5 south and headed for Snooze. If Lisa's parents were gone, it was a good bet that so was her brother, Scott. This helped explain Max's finding of _weird_, but she hoped he had something more than just a feeling.

Snooze was on a wide one-way street with metered parking, but a construction worker in an orange safety vest was placing traffic cones in the spots fronting the restaurant forcing Veronica to park down the block and across the street. She locked up the car and double-backed to the eatery.

It had been a while since she'd eaten here because they were only open in the mornings and served just breakfast food. The outdoor dining she remembered was gone and two large, waist-high, concrete planters stood as sentinels at the curb. There was nothing growing in either of them, but the dirt was tilled and ready for spring planting. Veronica smiled. She kept trying to convince Logan that they needed a garden, but so far she'd remained unsuccessful in getting him to plant one.

Max was already inside. He was sitting in one of the booths with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door. Veronica pulled out the lime green chair and joined him at the table. She wasn't lying when she told Logan she felt fine this morning, but going this long without food was starting to make her stomach feel off. _Or maybe it was the smell from the Watson's refrigerator._ "Did you order yet?"

His eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head.

"You didn't expect to come to a restaurant with a pregnant woman and not eat, did you?" She frowned at the menu. Everything looked good, but hollandaise, soft cheeses, and undercooked eggs —all things she couldn't eat— seemed to be the mainstays of their cuisine.

A carafe carrying waitress arrived at the table to top off Max's coffee. "Are you ready to order?"

"Just coffee for me, thanks."

Veronica shrugged. Max's lack of appetite didn't deter her from ordering a three egg omelet with poblano chilies, ham, and jack cheese. She added toast, a side of bacon and a hot chocolate. Veronica handed her the menu, "And decaf if you have it."

When the waitress departed, Max slid a thick folder across the table. Veronica flipped it open and started sorting through the paperwork. It was just as he described- a perfect paper trail. There were copies of her birth certificate, school transcripts, tax returns, a DMV report, bank statements, reports from all three credit bureaus and he'd even printed monthly statements for her two credit cards.

"So when does the weird start?"

"Check out when she got her driver's license." He found the DMV report for her. "And her age."

Lisa didn't get her first license until seven years ago at the age of twenty-three. Granted, most teenagers couldn't wait to start driving, but this wasn't exactly the weird she'd hoped for. "Okay, but she didn't grow up in California where your car is an extension of your body. There's even a song about it, right? Missing Persons, Nobody walks in L.A."

He frowned at her. "Now look at when her credit cards were opened."

Veronica picked up the credit report. Again the answer was seven years ago. Now that she knew what to look for, she went back through the pages. The checking account was opened seven years ago, ditto for her savings account, and her employment history only went back seven years too.

Theoretically, the coincidence could be explained away. Lisa just graduated college and needed a car to start looking for a job so she got her license. After finding her first job, she opened bank accounts for her paychecks and started filing tax returns. Now with a steady income Lisa applied for credit cards to establish a credit history. You could _explain_ it, but Veronica didn't _like_ it.

She shuffled the documents, straightened all the pages and returned them to the file. It was interesting, but it didn't tell her anything and it certainly didn't explain Max's paranoia. "Thanks for doing this for me; I really—"

"There's more." He unzipped the black laptop case sitting on the bench next to him. "When I saw the dates, I got curious and decided to dig a little more." His tone said he regretted his curiosity. _Been there, done that_, _still doing it_. Max started to pull out another file and his computer, but the return of the waitress with the food made him flip down the cover of the laptop case.

Veronica shoved the original file in her messenger bag to make room for the plates. She smiled at the waitress. "Thanks."

"Can I get you anything else?" Her gaze swung from Veronica to Max who just shook his head. She hesitated to give them a chance to change their mind and then walked away.

"You got curious," Veronica prompted. To settle her stomach, she started with the dry toast and small sips of her water.

"First I checked social media- Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, even MySpace." He said _MySpace_ like it was a four-letter word. "She's not on any of them."

"_I'm_ not on any of them." His wry expression said he didn't consider her a good measure for what was _normal_. Veronica rolled her eyes.

"Then I checked out Roosevelt High School. They have their yearbooks online so I went through all four, from her freshman to her senior year and she isn't in any of them. Not even her name with a 'no photo' square." He handed her the new file. "I even ran a search program that scanned through all the pages looking for her name in any of the photo captions or club listings and nothing."

The first few pages in the file were alphabetical name indexes from four years worth of high school yearbooks- no Lisa Watson in any of them. The next sheets were also name indexes from Roosevelt High —just the W sections— but he'd gone back all the way to the seventies. "You went looking for Scott."

Max nodded. "And he doesn't exist, not even on paper."

Copies of all his fruitless searches were included in the file. Almost every Scott Watson was either too old or too young to be Lisa's brother. Of the two that were born in Seattle around the right time, one died in childhood and the other was now residing in Texas. "He could've been born somewhere else and went to a different high school."

"Sure," he sounded annoyed. "But where is he now? The address Lisa gave you in her personnel records? Bogus. I'm telling you Scott Watson doesn't exist."

The eggs weren't sitting well in her stomach. Veronica pushed away the plate. _If Scott Watson didn't exist who has my dad been trying to call for the past week? _"Is this why you were so spooked yesterday?"

Max shook his head and opened the laptop. His fingers flew across the keyboard and he turned the computer around so she could see. A _no records found_ message was in the middle of the screen. "This is the DMV database. I just ran the search for _Lisa_ and her records are gone. The same search I printed for you- it was there on Tuesday and gone on Wednesday."

"They deleted her file."

It wasn't a question, but Max answered anyway. "Not just her DMV record, but all of it. After the first one disappeared, I kept running the searches all day Wednesday and even this morning. One by one they eventually disappeared. Someone erased her."

And Veronica had a pretty good idea who, but she still needed the why. She signaled for the waitress and picked up her messenger bag. "Can I keep these files?"

"Keep them, burn them, do whatever you want with them, but I can't help you anymore Veronica."

"I understand."

The waitress made her way to the table and frowned at the almost full plate. "Was there something wrong with your eggs? Do you want me to get you something else?"

"Just the check please."

The waitress tore the check off her pad and put it face down on the table. Veronica turned it over and counted out the necessary cash while Max packed up his laptop. He stood and waited for her. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I waited too long to eat." One of the suggestions for keeping morning sickness at bay was grazing throughout the day to avoid the stomach acid making the nausea worse, but it was hard to eat when she wasn't hungry.

"I'll walk you to your car; where'd you park?"

"Across the street." They exited the restaurant together and paused at the curb. Veronica put her hand on his arm. "Thanks for your help Max. I know why you—"

She heard the car before she saw it. Its tires screeched against the tarmac as it barreled down Fifth at a speed too fast for them to outrun. Veronica pulled Max back from the curb and flapped her arm toward the concrete planters. "Go, go, go!" She shouted as she ran and dived behind the barrier keeping her arms outstretched to prevent landing on her belly.

Her knees and hands smacked and skidded along the sidewalk just as the car careened into the planter. The planter shifted, but didn't fall. Veronica heard the metal of the car scrape against the concrete followed by the sound of a revving engine and a skid of tires. She hazarded a glance over the top of the planter in time to see a flash of blue take the corner and disappear. "Max!" He was facedown on the sidewalk behind the other planter. "Max!"


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Veronica called his name again, "Max!"

He slowly started to sit. "I'm okay." His hands patted the sidewalk around him. In his dive for cover he'd lost his glasses. Realizing what Max was searching for, a nearby pedestrian scooped them off the sidewalk and handed them to him. Max offered the woman a grateful, "Thanks."

It took him a few minutes of staring at the glasses before he finally put them on and stood. He seemed shaky on his feet and he kept looking at the street, shell-shocked. There were abrasions down the right side of his face and he was rubbing his arm as he stumbled toward Veronica. "Are you… are you hurt?" he stuttered.

"I'm…"

A crowd of people were gathered around them. A few were on their cell phones, maybe with 911, and the others were talking about what they'd just witnessed. Snippets of their conversations made their way to Veronica. _Out of nowhere… lost control… coulda been worse… lucky. _She didn't know if she felt _lucky_, but maybe it was there beneath pissed off and furious.

"Veronica, are you hurt?" Max asked the question again, this time a little louder with a slight edge of panic.

"I'm…" She was still sitting on the ground behind the safety of the planter. "I'm fine."

Veronica assessed her injuries. Both palms stung from scraping across the sidewalk; they were raw and bloody, but they looked worse than they felt. She flexed her fingers and rotated her wrists. The left one felt a little tender, but not broken. Her jeans were ripped and her knees were throbbing. They were probably in the same condition as her palms.

"I'm fine," she repeated.

A skeptical expression crossed his face, but he didn't argue with her. "Do you need help getting up?"

She started to say no and then changed her mind. Taking his outstretched hand, she stood and winced. Her left side obviously took the brunt of her impact with the sidewalk and it hurt to put weight on that knee. "Could you?" She pointed at her messenger bag. Max nodded, picked it up and handed it to her. "Thanks."

The approaching siren propelled Veronica into action. She hobbled around the planter to inspect the damage. There was a gouge in the concrete and streaks of blue paint, but it was relatively unscathed. Pulling out her cell, she took pictures of the planter and the blue paint to show Weevil.

Her eyes searched the block and the intersections for surveillance cameras. _No joy_. But there was a Union Savings Bank on the corner directly across from where the car would've been waiting for them. _The bank would have cameras inside and at the ATM machines. _She turned to Max. "Do you think you…" His earlier words, _I can't help you anymore Veronica_, made her fall silent. After today, she couldn't ask him to hack into the bank's cameras.

_I need to sit down_. She half-sat, half-leaned on the edge of the planter trying to alleviate the pressure on her knee. _Norris could get the bank's video_. Scrolling through her contacts, she found his direct number and hit call as an ambulance pulled to the curb followed closely by a car from the Sheriff's Department. _Shit_. Her thumb tapped the red disconnect icon.

Lamb himself climbed out of the car. _Now I'm definitely not feeling lucky_. "Veronica Mars, surprise, surprise." His eyes raked over her. "Who did you piss off now?"

In his rush to antagonize her, Lamb actually stumbled across the truth, but she wasn't worried about him pursuing it. The accidental detective would talk to a few witnesses and accept the _lost control of the car_ version of events. _He probably still believes that Jim Jones just liked Kool-Aid and Charles Manson was only a big Beatles fan. _

"Me? Who would want to …" She tapped her chin. "Say where were you ten minutes ago and" —she pointed to the paint streaks— "do you own a blue car?"

"I wouldn't have missed," he sneered.

"That's too bad; if you were the guilty party you might've actually been able to solve this one." Baiting Lamb, while fun, was not a productive way to spend her time. She wasn't going to tell him anything so she needed to wrap this up as soon as possible. Standing, she started to walk away. "As usual, this has been unpleasant."

Lamb grabbed her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Disneyland," Veronica deadpanned. "Look, we both know you're not going to investigate so let's save time. I didn't see anything and I don't know what happened."

"You can't leave the scene; I need to take your statement." _He almost sounds like a real cop_.

"Do I need to talk slower? Draw pictures? I. Didn't. See. Anything."

The back doors of the ambulance were open and Max was sitting on the edge being examined by an EMT. He was staring at Veronica clearly confused by her refusal to tell Lamb what happened.

She frowned. _What _did_ happen?_ Scanning the scene, her eyes landed on the traffic cones and she immediately dismissed the idea. Max didn't lead the blue car to the restaurant. Despite his paranoia, the people responsible for erasing Lisa wouldn't be running down pregnant women in the street so it had to be someone from the other side of the equation.

_They probably tailed me from the Watsons._ That definitely ruled out the construction worker's involvement since he was here _before_ she arrived. But the traffic cone placement did prevent parking in front of the restaurant and gave the driver a direct path to them. All he had to do was wait. Another minute and they would've been in the middle of the road with no way to escape. _Was he just trying to scare me?_

"Veronica?" Done with the EMT, Max was now standing next to her. From his worried expression, she guessed this wasn't the first time he called her name. "You should have the EMT look at—"

"We're not done here," Lamb interrupted.

"She's pregnant."

_Pregnant_. It was the perfect excuse for her to get away from Lamb. Her hand curved around her belly. "I think I should go" —she glanced at the BMW and then the ambulance— "to the hospital."

If she did pick up her tail at the Watson's house, she didn't want to lead them home. _A ride to the hospital it is then_. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for someone to follow an ambulance traveling with lights and sirens. She could have her dad get the car later and check it for a tracker.

Veronica started for the ambulance, but Lamb blocked her path. "What kind of car was it?"

"Weren't you listening? A blue one." With a sigh, she relented. _Here's a bone_. "You might want to check the bank's cameras."

At her suggestion, his lips pursed and he let out a soft _pff_ of disdain, but his eyes darted to the savings bank. _Good boy_.

Veronica stifled her grin. "Can I go now?" Lamb stepped aside and she turned to Max. "You shouldn't be here long, right? You'll call me when you're done?" She hoped it was enough to convey the message: _don't tell him about the investigation_.

He stared at her for a moment before telling Lamb, "There's not much I can tell you."

Satisfied, she turned away and moved toward the ambulance exaggerating her limp. The EMT insisted on strapping her to the gurney for the ride. He checked her vitals and palpated her abdomen. "Did the pain start immediately after your fall?"

Veronica shook her head. "I didn't fall on my stomach; it's my knee that hurts."

"We'll get to that." He ran through a list of questions regarding her pregnancy and prenatal care along with questions about current medications and any allergies. It was all very thorough and professional and more care than she needed. _I should've just taken a cab_.

When he got to her knees, he cut away her jeans, turning them into a pair of maternity shorts. They were both banged up with bloody scratches, but the left one was swelling and tender to the touch. "You'll probably need an x-ray," he suggested as he cleaned the wounds and packed the left knee in ice.

Upon arrival, they whisked her into the hospital too fast for her to confirm the absence of Mister Blue Car: _new from Mattel, now comes complete with both front-end and side damage_. Weevil thought the cars used to run Lisa and Mac off the road would've been chopped and sold for parts immediately after the accident and she didn't disagree with him. But the paint on the planter said maybe they were both wrong. Using the same car was a mistake. Now she could only hope the bank's surveillance caught enough to identify it.

The doctors repeated the exam she received from the EMT and went through a more detailed list of questions. They also added an ultrasound and reintroduced her to an old friend- the fetal monitor. She gave up trying to tell them that she felt fine when each of her protests was met with, "just to be sure." _Resistance is futile_.

There was a wait for the x-rays and she used the time to call her dad. "What's the second-best P.I. in Neptune doing this afternoon?"

Keith chuckled. "I don't know; what are you doing?"

Veronica smiled. "Asking you for a teensy-weensy favor?"

"You know that cajoling tone doesn't work on me."

"Sure it does." She pushed the door to the exam room closed and returned to the wheelchair they were making her use. "Can you go pick up the BMW for me? There's a spare set of keys in my desk drawer."

"I'm going to need more information than that."

"I think someone was following me so I left it across the street from Snooze." She was in the restaurant with Max for almost an hour - plenty of time for someone to tamper with the car or put a tracker on it. She gnawed her bottom lip. "Check it over before you get in, okay?"

"What do you want me to do with it?"

_Good question_. An orderly arrived to take her down to x-ray and she held up a finger to hold him off for a second. "Long-term parking at the airport?"

"I'll get Dottie to drive me." There was a brief pause and when he asked—"Is everything okay, Veronica?" —it was with his concerned Dad voice.

"Everything's fine, but can you have Paige take you? I need Dottie to come pick me up." The hospital wouldn't discharge her without a person and Dottie was the easiest choice.

"Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"

"Because you're a distrustful pessimist?"

"That's you darling daughter, not me."

The orderly was losing his patience and done waiting for her. He clicked the locks off the wheelchair and started pushing her from the exam room. Veronica didn't want any hospital sounds or overhead announcements telling Keith where she was calling from. "I've gotta go Pops- call you later… and thanks."

She disconnected the call and dialed Dottie.

"There's no cell phone use here," the orderly intoned as he wheeled her down the hall.

Veronica ignored him and called Dottie who readily agreed to come pick her up at the hospital in a half hour and did so without asking any questions. _Here's hoping Logan will have the same reaction_. She smirked. _Not bloody likely_.

Her worry about telling Logan outweighed her concern about an x-ray during pregnancy, but Veronica still tried to wheedle her way out of the test. The technician reassured her that a diagnostic x-ray wouldn't expose the baby to a high level of radiation while he covered her with a lead apron. "It's perfectly safe."

_I should practice that soothing tone for my conversation with my husband: I'm perfectly safe_. Unfortunately, that would be a lie. Just because Blue Car didn't run her over, didn't mean she was out of danger. If this time was only a warning, it meant she was close. _But close to what?_ The relocation of Lisa's parents coinciding with the accident seemed to confirm her suspicion that this was less about Kane Software and more about Lisa's past. But Veronica was no closer to solving _that_ mystery than she was at the start of the case. _If I'm going to be in danger, I'd at least like to know why_.

The tech finished her x-rays and the orderly returned her to the exam room. By the time the doctor discharged her with a diagnosis of a sprain and a compression bandage, Dottie was in the lobby waiting for her. She eyed Veronica's cut jeans and bandaged knee. "Guess you weren't here visiting Mac- what happened?"

_That explains why there were no questions on the phone_. "No big deal- it's just a sprain."

"Uh-huh…was Logan busy?"

She knew precisely what Dottie meant. If it was no big deal why not call her husband to pick her up. Veronica purposely chose to misunderstand. "I'm sure Wyatt kept him on his toes today."

"Bet he could say that about all the blondes in his life."

"Probably" —Veronica grinned— "But he likes it that way."

Following her from the hospital, Veronica slowed her pace and let Dottie pull ahead of her. She studied the lot for any idling cars near the curb or the exits and then searched the parked vehicles for anyone who might be watching them. Nothing looked out of place; people were getting in and out of their cars either arriving for visiting hours or just leaving. An idling Honda at the curb was a young woman dropping off an elderly couple before going to find parking.

One lone guy was walking in her direction carrying a bouquet of flowers and a 'Get Well Soon!' balloon, but they could be props used to help him blend. Veronica stopped, pretended to search her bag, and then changed direction. The man paid no attention to her. Without altering his course, he continued through the sliding doors into the hospital. _Max's cloak-and-dagger routine is contagious_.

Dottie was waiting by the car wearing a perplexed frown. "Is everything all right?"

"Peachy." Veronica slid into the passenger seat.

"You have that same look your father gets when he's being evasive." Dottie put the car in gear and backed out of the spot. "It can be very frustrating."

"I agree; _he_ can be very frustrating." Shifting in her seat, Veronica found an ideal position that didn't hurt her knee and still provided her with a clear view through the back window. A line of cars exited the lot behind them; none of them were blue and one by one they fell away as Dottie got closer to the house. "When does Jake report back to Lemoore?"

A sidelong look at Veronica. "Logan's supposed to be driving him up next Sunday."

"He didn't mention it."

"That's probably because my son has been making a nuisance of himself, trying to convince Logan to change his mind."

_That must be what he was going to tell me the morning we went to the beach. _"Taking him to fly wasn't working?"

"No." Dottie chuckled. "Every time he starts talking about the Navy, Logan shows him pictures of Wyatt." She pulled into the driveway. "When Jake's cell alarm went off this morning, it was Wy singing I'm a Little Teapot- he was not amused."

Veronica didn't try to hide her smile. _Jake might not be amused, but I am_. She reached for the door handle with a sigh. It was time to face her own music. _And it's not going to be as sweet as Wyatt singing_. Her smile faded as she glanced at the house. "Do you want to come in?" The invitation was laced with hopefulness.

Another chuckle from Dottie as she shook her head. "Sorry, but you'll have to find someone else to use as a human shield."

"Gee exaggerate much? It's not going to be that bad."

"Then you better get to it."

She climbed from the car and leaned back in. "Saturday at seven thirty?"

"We'll be here."

Veronica shut the door and waved goodbye to Dottie before climbing the steps to the porch. Saturday was her personal deadline. If she couldn't figure out who was helping Stewart Manning by the end of Celeste's party, she'd leave it to her dad to find the accomplice in the espionage case so she could focus on Lisa.

The sound of clanking metal greeted her ears as she walked into the house. Wyatt was in the middle of the living room floor surrounded by pots and pans. With one hand she was banging a lid against a cookie sheet while her other hand was using a wooden spoon to hit the bottom of a sauce pan. Her magnetic letters were stuck all over the metal surfaces and Logan was nowhere in sight.

"Hey." Veronica raised her voice to be heard over the din. "Wy!"

The lid clattered to the floor. "Mama!" She tossed the spoon down and raced toward Veronica. As she got closer, she slowed down, her eyes riveted to the scratches on Veronica's knee. Clasping her hands together, she leaned over to inspect the cuts. "Mama, boo-boo?"

Logan emerged from the dining room. "Why did the noise stop?"

"Mama boo-boo." Wyatt gingerly placed a kiss on Veronica's knee. "Kisses better."

"You're right, I do feel better." Veronica picked up the baby, kissed her forehead and glanced at Logan. "Hi honey, I'm home."

He dragged an unsteady hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. "What happened?"

She shrugged. "I fell?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He slowly closed the gap between them; first he took Wyatt from her and then he slipped the messenger bag from her shoulder. "How bad is it?"

She chose to believe he was asking about her injuries. "A few scrapes and scratches and my knee is sprained."

Logan stroked his fingers down her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, she took a step closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. His body was stiff and she could feel the tension in his muscles as she rubbed the small of his back. "Can we talk about it later?"

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Do I have a choice?" He murmured the question against her skin.

"Not really."

"Then later it is." The clipped words signaled his irritation at having to wait. He stepped away from her and returned Wyatt to the floor. "Come on Bean, let's put away the pots."

"No, me al'bet toup."

"We can make more alphabet soup tomorrow. Now we have to take care of Mommy and her boo-boos." To demonstrate, he picked up Veronica and carried her to the sofa. He pushed the coffee table out of the way, moved the ottoman closer and gently lifted her legs onto it. Grabbing one of the pillows from the chair, he elevated her knee. "Ice?"

Part of her was ready to argue that she wasn't an invalid, but it was a small part and she was able to smother its protests in favor of a little pampering. She countered his offer with, "Lunch?"

"You haven't had lunch yet?"

"Or breakfast."

"Veronica." That was it, just her name, but he managed to make her feel both contrite and loved at the same time.

"I know- no skipping meals, but I wasn't hungry."

He let his jaw drop in mock surprise. "You? Not hungry?"

"Well, I'm hungry _now _and lunch isn't going to make itself."

Flashing her a quick smile and a salute, he answered— "Yes ma'am" —before pivoting on his heel and marching toward the kitchen.

Clearly not interested in cleaning up her mess, Wyatt was standing near the couch with Cuddles in one hand and a book in the other. "Yes, ma'am," she parroted as she tried to pivot like Logan only to fall on her butt; her purple tutu billowing out around her.

"Need help, sweet pea?"

She shook her head determined to get up by herself without letting go of her stuff. It took a few tries, but eventually she was upright. She dumped Cuddles and her _If You Give a Pig a Pancake_ book on Veronica's lap and then climbed on the sofa. Snuggling next to Veronica's side, Wyatt popped a thumb in her mouth. "Mama, read?"

"Okay." Closing her eyes, she nestled Wyatt closer and rested her cheek on the top of her daughter's head. It was in these quiet moments of holding her baby where she realized how much motherhood had changed her. She once worried to Logan that her fear was getting so caught up in an investigation that she would neglect or endanger their child, but those fears ended up being unfounded. Nothing was more important than this.

Brushing her fingers through the soft strands of Wyatt's hair, she kissed her head, opened the picture book and started to read. "If you give a pig a pancake, she'll want some syrup to go with it."

"Pancake!" Wyatt clapped. "With 'nanas?"

She smiled. "I don't know, do you think pigs like bananas?" The baby tilted her head back and stared at her with a dumbfounded expression that made Veronica chuckle. "Mommy's only teasing, of course pigs like bananas."

Wy nodded and rested her head back on Veronica's arm for the rest of the story. When it was done, Wy took the book from her and started to 'read' it to Cuddles, which was really her just pointing to pictures of things she knew and telling them to her bunny. "Bath…bubbles."

Logan returned with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. "Let me know if you want more."

"Thanks." She inclined her head toward the baby. "Did she nap?"

"For two hours."

"What did you do with all that free time?"

The pots banged against each other as he gathered them from the floor. "I organized the newspaper clippings. They didn't have anything to do with the trophy wife; they're all about some murder trial in Chicago."

Veronica's head snapped up from her bowl of soup. "Chicago?"

"Is my kind of town." Logan stood with the pots in his arms.

"Show me." She started to get up and he shook his head.

"You stay and I'll bring them to you." He didn't make any move to leave the room; instead he stood there watching the baby read to Cuddles. His eyes moved to Veronica's knees and his lips thinned as he clenched his jaw. "Do you want to play with your Little People?"

Wyatt slid off the sofa, chucking the book on the floor and dropping Cuddles in Veronica's lap. She tilted her head and held out a hand palm side up in a questioning gesture. "Big bed?"

Her request managed to coax a small smile from Logan. "Yes, in Mommy and Daddy's room."

She scampered around the sofa and followed him; first into the kitchen, where Veronica could hear the clatter of pots being put away, and then down the hall, her tiny feet thudding on the hardwood. Logan's suggestion of Little People meant it was 'later' enough for him and he wanted to hear what happened today. Veronica knew she couldn't put it off indefinitely, but _her_ idea of later was like their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

_A Chicago murder trial_. The framed black and white photos hanging in Lisa's living room were all of famous Chicago landmarks and her collection of blues albums featured a lot of Muddy —_father of modern Chicago blues_— Waters. _Personal items_. It was the same thing Veronica thought about her own office at Mars Investigations: _anyone who really knew me would be able to identify the personal touches_. Maybe anyone who knew the _real_ Lisa would know what those photos and albums represented to her.

Using her nail, she scraped a piece of melted American cheese off her empty plate and stuck her finger in her mouth.

"Do you want another one?" Logan was back. Not only was he carrying her favorite pajamas, he also had the crime-solving white board. Gone were the crayon marks, its surface white and shiny with no newspaper clippings.

Veronica frowned. "Where are the articles?"

He offered her a peek at the reverse side —a cork board with neat rows of tacked clippings— and then leaned it against the fireplace out of her reach. He held out the plaid cotton pajama top and matching boxers. "Do you want another sandwich?"

"What I _want_ is that board."

"I know." Sitting on the ottoman next to her feet, his fingers gently skimmed over her knee. A raised eyebrow. "Fell?"

"Are you blackmailing me?"

The corner of his mouth lifted and he shook his head. "We're _communicating_." He dragged the word out, carefully enunciating each syllable.

"Really? Because it _feels_ like blackmail."

Logan smoothed his thumb across her lips. "Don't pout. I'll share a little information and then you share a little information. Like, did you know that almost ninety percent of all cocaine in America comes in through Mexico?"

Stripping off her clothes, she paused and waited for him to make some lewd suggestion or even leer at her, but his eyes remained firmly focused on her face. "Not even my nakedness is enough to distract you? I must be losing my touch." She tugged on her pajamas and plopped back down on the sofa. "Fine, I'll play— I searched the Watson's house and they're gone. Their car, clothes, and personal stuff all missing. I think they left the same day Lisa was killed."

His eyes narrowed. "I wanted to know about this," he tapped her ace bandage.

She shrugged. "You play your way and I'll play mine."

"Touché." The amusement in his eyes died and he cupped her face. "But you're okay, right? Nothing more serious than what I see?" Lifting her hands, he kissed each palm.

"I went to the hospital, x-rays and a full exam- I'm fine."

"The baby?"

"Perfect." She toed his ribs. "Now I believe it's your turn to share."

"The Sinaloa cartel is responsible for about _half_ of all the illegal narcotics imported into the country and they monopolize the entire drug market in Chicago."

A frisson of fear traveled up her spine at the words _Sinaloa cartel_. Obviously, Logan didn't know the connection she was making between Lisa and those newspaper articles or he wouldn't be this calm.

"Max ran a background check on Lisa and her entire life is recorded on paper, but it's like she didn't really start _living_ until seven years ago."

He rolled his wrist in a circular motion indicating that she should continue. "Clarification, please."

"She's not in any of her high school yearbooks, she's not on social media, and she didn't get a driver's license or open any bank and credit accounts until seven years ago."

"Was that the weird he was talking about?"

Veronica shook her head. "There's more, but it's your turn."

"A Chicago crime family, run by two brothers, decided to wrest control of the drug market away from the cartel. They declared war by executing the guy in charge of the Sinaloa's drug distribution."

"That's the murder trial featured in the newspaper articles?" In answer to her question, Logan touched his nose and pointed at her. "And let me guess- there was a witness."

His brows shot up in surprise. "How did you—" He made the same connection she did and asked, "Lisa?"

"I think so. When Max went back to check one of the searches he'd already run on Lisa, it was gone. Somebody was erasing her from the databases- _government_ databases."

"The Marshals Service, witness protection."

"It makes sense, right?"

"I don't like this Veronica." He popped off the ottoman and started to pace. "It's too dangerous. You could be—" Logan suddenly stopped talking and pacing. "Tell me _exactly_ what happened today."

"As we were leaving the restaurant, I heard the revving of a car engine. It was cutting across the three lanes of traffic heading for me and Max and we dove behind the concrete planters they have in front."

With each word, Logan grew paler. He clenched his hands into fists to stop his fingers from shaking.

"I don't think they were trying to hit us. I think it was just a warning."

"That you're going to listen—" He clamped his mouth shut and turned away. "_Fuck_."

Veronica abandoned the sofa. She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. "It's going to be okay. I'll call the Marshals Service first thing in the morning and give them everything I have."

She frowned. _What do I have that they don't already know?_ Lisa was a witness in a murder trial and she was killed. Her parents either fled or were relocated and someone wanted Veronica to stop investigating. _Nothing is what I have_.

"Tell me more about the murder trial."

"Are you serious?" He turned in her arms an incredulous expression on his face.

"You said the victim was a member of the cartel." Veronica let go of him, went to the white board, and turned it around. "So the cartel wouldn't care about the witness… Lisa," she corrected. "Which means they wouldn't care about me. As in, the enemy of my enemy is my friend." _Not that I want to make friends with the Sinaloa cartel_. "What happened to the two brothers?"

"One disappeared before the trial; the other one was convicted and sentenced to life without parole, but he was killed in prison." Logan smirked. "The cartel apparently wanted a death sentence."

He collapsed in the chair and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. His legs were bouncing on the balls of his feet and his hand was tapping out a steady beat on the side of the chair.

"So they never found the other brother?" She skimmed over the articles looking for a name. "Anthony Calabrese?"

"They assumed the cartel got to him first." Again, he leaped from his seat and started to pace.

"Logan—"

"I'm going to check on the baby." He stalked from the room and she let him go. Nothing she could say would make him worry less.

Veronica retrieved her messenger bag from the front hall. She moved the chair closer to the white board and propped her leg on the coffee table. None of the articles contained pictures. _Lisa probably cut them out as a safety precaution_. No, not Lisa- Elena Salgado. The name jumped out at her along with the one for the murder victim. She unpinned the clipping and stared at it:

_On the night of June 30__th__, Elena Salgado witnessed the brutal execution of her brother, Andres, a notorious drug capo for the Sinaloa cartel._

Andres Salgado. The 'res' at the end of his name got her out of her chair. _What did most people write on the back of photographs- names, dates, and places._ Veronica took the article to the kitchen where Lisa's photos were still spread across the center island. She picked up the picture of Lisa's brother sitting on the hood of the sixty-eight Dodge Charger. _Hello, Andres Salgado_. Veronica laid the article and photo side-by-side on the counter. _But if this is Lisa's dead brother, who the hell is Scott Watson?_


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Leaving out the picture of Lisa's brother, Veronica gathered up the rest of the photos and returned them to the shoebox. _Maybe the Marshal can get them to Lisa's parents_. She opened the fridge and leaned on the door while she studied its contents. Dinner did not look promising.

When she felt Logan behind her, she craned her neck to see him. The time spent checking on the baby seemed to drain his earlier tension, but his eyes were focused on Lisa's shoebox. Not quite ready to resume their conversation, she deflected. "We need to go food shopping." Veronica closed the door and turned to face him. "And by we, I mean you."

"Nope, that's your job."

She batted her eyes at him. "I'll trade you laundry for it?"

"But you like laundry and I hate the supermarket." Logan crossed the room to the coffee maker. "Especially when you send me with" —he shuddered—"_coupons_."

"Do they offend the rich boy in you?"

"We wealthy tend to leave those things to the help." He held up a mug. "Do you want one?"

"I'll just drink yours."

Logan made the one cup and doctored it with the amount of cream and sugar _she_ preferred. This was their dance. They were softer with each other now —the jokes less barbed and no cutting remarks— but they still resorted to humor, sarcasm, or snark when they were avoiding the unpleasant. He sat at the kitchen table and Veronica curled up on his lap taking the mug away from him.

She took a long sip. "Mmm… perfection."

"I know I am, but is the coffee good?" Logan wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder before stealing back his coffee.

Veronica smiled. "Is Wyatt okay with her Little People?"

"For now. She wanted to give them all a bubble bath and was less than pleased when I said no to the tub."

"How did you avoid the nuclear meltdown?"

He shrugged. "I'm not saying I did this, but I _may_ have given her a spray bottle of water and told her they liked showers."

Groaning, she buried her face in his chest. Wyatt and water would mean wet toys, carpet, bed, walls, and anything else she could reach to "clean." None of that would bother Logan; he'd walk on the squishy carpet and sleep with wet sheets. He let Wyatt play and experiment and run and make noise, let her be a _child_. Sometimes she thought he enjoyed all of it even more than Wyatt did. She lifted her head. "I love you, Logan Echolls."

He pressed their foreheads together and kissed her nose. "Enough to go food shopping?"

"_And_ do the laundry." With her fingers she traced the line of his jaw and the contours of his mouth.

Logan nipped at her fingertip. "I see you packed away Lisa's pictures."

"Her parents should have them." Pulling his arms away from her waist, she stood and returned to the refrigerator. She took out a bag of frozen peas. "Why do we keep buying these?"

"You're hoping one day Wyatt will eat them."

Veronica rejoined him at the table, but in her own chair. She put her foot in his lap and the peas on her knee. "Have you ever heard of the halo effect?"

He dipped his head as a familiar smile played across his lips.

"It's not a random question," she protested.

A slight shake of his head. "Okay, I'll bite; what's the halo effect?"

"It's a cognitive bias where your judgments about a person are influenced by an overall positive impression of their character. You wanted to know why I never held Duncan accountable… how did you put it? Never called him on his shit?"

"Yeah, this wasn't random at all."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

He pressed his lips together. Using his thumb and forefinger, he turned an imaginary key and tossed it away.

"In the years right after Lilly died, Duncan represented a happier time for me. Like a touchstone linking me to the old Veronica so I kept viewing all his shitty behavior through this positive lens."

"Right" —he smirked— "A Duncan-sized blind spot."

"Try throwing the key further away this time," she grumbled. When he remained silent, she continued. "The point is… there's an opposite of the halo effect- the horns effect and I may have over-corrected. Now that I see things —Shelly's party, Meg, Aaron— differently, I'm starting to view everything Duncan does as a negative."

"Progress! _Finally_."

"If you're not going to take this seriously, why am I—"

"Trust me Veronica, when it comes to you, I'm very serious." He put down the mug he'd been holding during the entire conversation and took her hand. "While I appreciate all this effort to share, this is not what we should be talking about right now."

"I'm telling you this because I made a mistake. I was so focused on how the Kane family keeps screwing up my life that I was positive the accident had to do with the espionage and it doesn't."

"It was a logical assumption."

"That's just it - it was an assumption. Maybe if I'd—"

Logan cut her off. "No. You didn't just focus on Kane Software. You looked into Mac's background and Lisa's and you considered her other cases. You couldn't have known they were two separate cases."

Veronica frowned. "I think a part of me _wanted_ Duncan to be responsible for the accident."

"And how do you feel now?"

"Let's just say there won't be Friday nights spent watching the Big Lebowski and eating Chinese food."

"Are you using my material again?"

"Community property, baby- your material _is_ mine."

"_Half_, Mars," he corrected. "Are you sure you passed the Bar exam?"

Wyatt ran into the kitchen. "Water bye-bye!" She careened into Logan's side, thrusting the spray bottle at his chest. "Water bye-bye."

It was easy to see why her water was all gone; her hair was damp and her tee shirt completely soaked. Logan brushed the wet strands of hair away from her forehead. "Do you want more?"

Veronica started to protest. "I don't think—" But the combined effect of Logan's indulgent, happy smile and Wyatt's upturned excited face was enough to silence her objection. She dropped her leg to the floor so he could get up.

Standing, he cinched his arm around Wyatt's waist and lifted her from the floor. "I'll go assess the damages." He carried Wy sideways, tucked under his arm and she pretended to fly with _whoosh_ noises and giggles.

Veronica used the break to call her dad. "Feel like coming over for dinner?"

"Depends- what are we having?"

"Whatever you're bringing." She cocked her head to the side while she thought about it. "But you know I'd never turn down manicotti."

Keith chuckled. "Spaghetti and meatballs for Wyatt?"

"And veal saltimbocca for Logan." Veronica was already thinking of asserting the rules of community property in order to acquire half of Logan's veal. "How did it go with the car?"

"Eli let me store it at his shop."

_Weevil's garage would definitely be safer than long-term parking at the airport_. "So no trackers or a tail?"

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"After Wyatt goes to bed." Logan was back and leaning in the doorway listening to her conversation. "Don't forget the garlic bread and the antipasto."

"Cannoli too?"

"Did you even have to ask?" She hung up and held out her hand for Logan to come closer. "Dad's bringing dinner."

"I heard." He crossed the kitchen, squeezed her hand, and dropped back into his chair at the table. "No tracker or a tail?"

"I thought the hit-and-run driver followed me from the Watsons so I left the BMW and hitched a ride with the ambulance. I had my Dad go check it over and stash it somewhere safe."

"I'd like to stash _you_ somewhere safe."

"I could put an ad in the paper? Dear Anthony Calabrese, I'm not investigating you anymore so please leave me alone, sincerely, Veronica Mars." She tossed the bag of peas on the table. "But somehow I don't think he'd be reassured."

"The 'not investigating' would reassure me."

"But you're not a wanted fugitive."

When she'd interviewed Lisa for the job at Mars Investigations, there was something about her that reminded Veronica of herself. Not the settled down version, but the 'fire and brimstone, vengeance is mine' Veronica that pursued Lilly's killer with a single-minded devotion.

Drug dealing aside, Andres Salgado was Lisa's brother and he was murdered. _Was Lisa on a quest to bring Anthony Calabrese to justice?_ Her entire motivation for becoming a private investigator could have been to track him down. _Getting justice for Lilly is what motivated me_.

Logan wasn't looking at her. He was sipping his coffee and staring out the bay window into the yard. Without turning around, he asked, "Are you still going to call the Marshals Service?"

Veronica frowned._ Call the Marshals Service. _She stared at the shoebox on the counter. _Somewhere safe_. "I think we already did."

He swiveled in his seat to face her. "Explain, please."

Abandoning the chair, Veronica went back to the counter island and got the shoebox along with the picture of Lisa's brother. "Elena Salgado's new identity as Lisa Watson was established in Seattle; my guess, that's where she was relocated after the trial."

Logan took the birth certificate and transcripts she offered him. "Okay, but that doesn't answer—"

"Scott Watson, or whatever his real name is, was listed as Lisa's emergency contact. Not her parents, but her imaginary brother in _Seattle_. Why would she do that unless it was important he be contacted right away?"

"So you think he's a Marshal?"

Veronica nodded. "Either Lisa called him when she spotted Anthony Calabrese or my father's phone call alerted him to the danger and he came to Neptune to relocate her parents."

"Why hasn't he returned the call?"

"Lisa's already dead." She shrugged. "His priority would be to bring Lisa's parents in and get them somewhere safe. Finding Anthony Calabrese isn't his responsibility."

"It's not yours either."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "But we both know _Lamb_ isn't going to prove he killed Lisa." Her dad would call in the FBI, but their only interest was apprehending Calabrese for the murder of Andres Salgado and, without Lisa's testimony, there was a chance _that_ case wouldn't even go to trial. Bowing her head, she concentrated on aligning Lisa's paperwork and neatly stacking it in the shoebox.

"Hey" —he lifted her chin with his knuckle— "What's wrong?"

_I'm letting Anthony Calabrese get away with murder_. "I've never walked away in the middle of a case before."

Logan was watching her with one of his intense stares; the one that made her feel exposed while he read her mind. "Is that what you're doing?"

Meeting his gaze without flinching, she nodded. "I think so."

"What about the espionage case?"

"I'll find Stewart Manning's accomplice and save Duncan's precious Smartpaper from being stolen." _Bitter, party of one_.

She started to pull away from him and he lightly gripped her chin. "Veronica, if you're dropping the accident investigation because of anything I said tonight- don't." He stroked his thumb across her chin. "We had a deal, remember? You investigate, I worry."

"And you really excel at it" —she gave his hand a gentle squeeze— "I'm not doing this for you." Standing, she grabbed the bag of peas from the table and returned them to the freezer. "There's a little girl inside who needs—" Veronica bit her bottom lip to stop the slight tremble and then offered him a weak smile. "—A towel and a dry shirt."

His eyes said he understood. "Brave move... trying to take away her water."

"Wish me luck."

"You're going to need it."

Veronica walked down the hall and peeked into the bedroom. Wyatt was busy trying to fill the tank in the Little People aquarium so her dolphin would float. She needed both hands to squeeze the trigger of the squirt bottle and the effort ruined her aim sending a spray of water across the carpet.

"Do you want Mommy to help you?" Veronica held out her hand for the bottle.

Wyatt seemed undecided; torn between her desire to do everything herself and the realization she needed help. _I know exactly how you feel_. "Fish 'wimming?"

"You want your dolphin to swim?"

"Mama do." She relinquished the spray bottle and Veronica shook it. There wasn't much water left. _Surprise_. Twisting off the top, she dumped the remaining water in the tank, but it wasn't enough to make the dolphin float to Wyatt's satisfaction. "More."

"Maybe we should let him swim in the kitchen sink with his friends?" With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, the baby thought about the offer. Veronica sweetened the deal. "Don't you think Ollie the Octopus wants to swim too?"

Wy's love for the purple floating octopus had her grabbing the dolphin and racing for the kitchen. Veronica stopped in the bathroom to collect the octopus and a hairbrush; then she detoured through the laundry room for a clean towel and a dry shirt before following Wyatt in to the kitchen.

The baby was holding out her dolphin and pointing to the sink trying to explain the new plan to Logan. She was getting very frustrated with his inability to understand what sounded like, "Leewimink."

Veronica grinned and rattled the octopus at him. "Ollie is going swimming in the sink."

"So your plan for taking away her water was to offer her even more water?"

"Brilliant, right?"

"Not the word I would choose, but okay."

Putting the octopus in the farmhouse sink, Veronica turned on the tap and added enough water to make him float. She picked up the baby and sat her on the counter. After towel drying her hair and changing her shirt, Veronica gave Wyatt the rings to toss on Ollie's tentacles. While she was busy flipping the rings into the water, Veronica brushed her hair and put it in pigtails. "Now what were you saying about my plan?"

"That it was genius."

"That's what I thought you said." Veronica retrieved the rings from the sink and handed them back to Wyatt. "Watch her while I go clean the bedroom?"

"Leave it; I'll clean it later." Logan eyed her knee. "You should go sit."

Without protest, Veronica took the article and photo of Andres Salgado and went back to her chair by the newspaper clippings. The first few articles contained general background information on the illegal drug market and the Sinaloa cartel's part in it- moving coke from Columbia through Mexico and into Los Angeles before trucking it into Chicago. Once the drugs reached Chicago —hundreds of kilos each week— it was Andres' job to store it in warehouses and deliver it to the middlemen who mixed it and resold it to dealers throughout the city.

Anthony and Vinnie Calabrese wanted in on the operation and decided to take on the cartel. Veronica shook her head. The article called it _faccia tosta_ —nerve— but she thought that was too complimentary a term. _Idiotic, crazy, absurd would have been better descriptors._

The brothers targeted Andres Salgado inside his Gold Coast luxury mansion. They tortured him first presumably for the warehouse locations and then they ended his life with a bullet to the back of his skull. What they didn't know was that he'd stashed his sister Elena in the panic room he'd installed and she watched the entire thing on the CCTV. When the police found her, she was a wreck, but she still managed to give them a complete account along with the killers' names. However, somebody must have tipped off the Calabrese brothers because Anthony was gone by the time the SWAT team arrived.

In pretrial motions the prosecutors tried to argue for a trial in absentia, but were denied. Veronica smirked. _Now _that's_ faccia tosta_. Trials in absentia were rare since they didn't jibe with due process and the Supreme Court had already prohibited them for defendants not present at the start of their trial. Motion denied, Anthony was added to the FBI's most wanted list and the prosecutors proceeded with their case against Vinnie.

Elena's —_Lisa's_— testimony convicted Vinnie without much deliberation. But each time she was questioned about her brother's business and his involvement with the Sinaloa cartel, she claimed to know nothing. Veronica didn't know if her claim was truthful or if it was just self-preservation. Either way Lisa made sure that the cartel would have no interest in her or her testimony.

Leaning back in her chair, Veronica put her leg on the ottoman and closed her eyes. _The cartel was not after Lisa so Anthony Calabrese had to be responsible for the accident_. She doubted Anthony was lying low as a computer programmer at Kane Software. _An investor maybe?_ The trophy wife's drug dealer was too young. _Young enough that he _should_ be delivering Dominos and not coke_. And what kind of moron would be involved dealing coke when he was wanted by a drug cartel?

The doorbell put an end to her musings and she went to let her father in. "I'm surprised I had to ring the bell; I figured you'd be able to smell the garlic from a mile away."

"Gwanpa!" Wyatt flew across the room and hugged his legs. Tilting her head back, she asked, "Puppy?"

Keith grinned. "Partner's home sleeping."

"Puppy night-night?" At his nod, she pouted and let Keith go.

Hanging his head, he sighed. "I was usurped by a dog for my granddaughter's affections."

Logan chuckled. "Don't feel bad, I was abandoned for pancakes."

"That's because she eats like her mother." Keith held up the bags of food as proof.

"For that remark, you two can have cereal while Wyatt and I experience an Italian feast."

"Hey, why do I have to eat cereal? I didn't say anything." Logan took the bags from Keith.

"It was just a matter of time."

Keith picked up his granddaughter and wrapped an arm around Veronica's shoulder. "It's okay kiddo; we love you _and_ your appetite." They started walking toward the dining room. "So what happened to your knee?"

Wyatt said, "Mama boo-boo," at the same time Veronica replied, "I'll tell you about it after dinner."

Keith and Veronica emptied the bags while Logan got plates and silverware. They ate family style and Veronica watched Wyatt beguile the two men on either side of her throughout the meal. She stole black olives from their plates because she needed one for each finger, convinced Daddy that he didn't need any cheese, and then hoodwinked Grandpa into letting her have two mini-cannolis for dessert. "You two are the worst."

Logan unstrapped the baby from her booster seat. "And where do you think she got those skills?"

"No idea," Veronica said as she popped another cannoli, _Logan's cannoli_, into her mouth.

He shook his head at her thievery. "Come on Bean, let's go take a bath."

"No M.O.V.I.E., she's watched all her television for the week."

With a soft smile, he leaned over and kissed the top of Veronica's head. "Don't worry, Mom- just bath, books, and bed."

Wyatt was okay with the first two items on his list, but the last one had her squirming to get down. "No bed." She held out an arm toward Keith in search of rescue. "Gwanpa."

Logan snagged her hand and kissed her fingers. "We'll come back to see Grandpa after bath time." He bundled her from the room, distracting her with the promise of finger-paint and extra stories.

"You never wanted to go to sleep either- always afraid you'd miss something," Keith said with a fond smile.

"Feeling nostalgic for your youth?"

"No, for _your_ youth, when my biggest worry was getting you to eat your vegetables." The smile was gone. "What happened to your knee?"

Veronica started with the information Max found on Lisa, talked him through her search of the Watson's house, and then told him about the attempted hit-and-run. "I left the car there just in case they kept eyes on it; I didn't want to lead them home."

Keith nodded. "I made sure I wasn't followed- a few sudden turns, ran a few yellow lights and stopped at the Sheriff's Department."

If there was a tail she had no doubt that her father would've spotted it. "Lisa had a file of newspaper clippings on her desk. Logan organized them and they're in the living room." Veronica wanted to see if he would come to the same conclusions. "Go take a look while I clean up."

After storing the leftovers, she loaded the dishwasher and made two cups of coffee. Veronica carried the mugs into the living room and passed one to Keith. He accepted the mug with a thanks and jabbed his thumb toward the board. "Witness protection?"

Veronica nodded. "But how did she get her investigator's license?"

Keith took a sip of his coffee before answering. "There wasn't anything preventing her. She wasn't a criminal and her prints would be clean."

The Marshals Service was under the jurisdiction of the Department of Justice- the same agency responsible for fingerprints and background checks when you applied for an investigator's license. "You'd think they'd want to keep their protectees out of any type of law enforcement."

"The left hand doesn't always know what the right hand is doing." He frowned at the board. "It's also possible that she left the program. Officially" —he injected just the right amount of cynicism into the word— "No witnesses who followed the rules have been killed while in the program."

"So her parents might have fled on their own?"

"Maybe."

She showed him the photo of Andres. "I got it from Lisa's apartment. At first, I thought it was Scott, but you can almost make out the letters r.e.s. on the back." Veronica shared her theory on Scott Watson being Lisa's WITSEC agent.

"Do you think Lisa called him when she spotted Anthony Calabrese?"

Veronica shrugged. "Or your messages alerted him." She picked up the article that detailed Anthony's role in the murder. "I just don't know how Lisa found him? Did she move to California to follow a lead? Was she investigating Calabrese this entire time? Or did she come across him by accident?"

"You think this is why Lisa was killed?"

"Don't you?" Veronica countered.

"I don't know, honey. If Lisa found him, why not call the FBI?"

Bringing in the FBI might have stopped the accident, but not necessarily. All these years later, Lisa would still be the prime witness in the case against Anthony and that was enough of a reason for him to want her dead. "Maybe she didn't have time."

"Or maybe she didn't find him at all and he found her."


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

_Maybe he found her_. Even after turning the files over to her dad, with his promise to call the FBI, she couldn't stop thinking that it was Anthony Calabrese who found Lisa and not the other way around. _And no one is going to figure out how_. It was on her mind when she went to sleep last night and again when she ducked out of the house this morning without waking Logan or Wyatt. Veronica listlessly pushed the shopping cart up and down the aisles at Ralphs tossing in the items from her grocery list.

Her first idea was that Lamb sold Lisa out. Corruption in the Balboa County Sheriff's Department was _de rigueur_ and Lamb's connection to the seedy underworld made her theory plausible. She knew the Marshals Service routinely told local law enforcement about protected witnesses in their jurisdiction. However, her father said it was only done to prevent criminals from using their new identities to continue their life of crime unimpeded. Since Lisa wasn't a criminal, it left a gaping hole in Veronica's theory.

_It's not your case anymore, Veronica_. She was mad. _No, not mad- frustrated_. Pausing in front of the freezer, she debated the merits of the different ice cream varieties and settled on Chunky Monkey since it was Wyatt's favorite. She made it halfway down the aisle before going back to add Phish Food and Cake Batter to her cart. If she was still being followed, her plan was to bore them to death with her early morning run to the dry cleaners and now her trip to the market. _Gee, maybe I should stop at Armstrong Garden Center and buy bulbs next. _

A morning of household errands, followed by an afternoon of gardening and an evening of family bowling was her equivalent to wearing an _'I'm not investigating you'_ sign. She handed the dreaded coupons to the cashier and paid for the groceries. She needed to snap out of this funk before going home. It wasn't Logan's fault that she gave up the case, but her moodiness last night had him electing to read in their bedroom while she banged around her office.

Veronica loaded the bags into the Audi's trunk. _Maybe instead of gardening we can go baby shopping as a peace offering_. Since he was deployed for much of her pregnancy with Wyatt, Logan was committed to the 'full experience' with this one, which included picking out furniture for the nursery. _He's certainly getting to experience my mood shifts_. The only positive result from last night's grumpiness was realizing that they could combine the office and guest room.

_Focus, Veronica_. She checked the rearview mirror, made another unnecessary turn and reduced her speed. Unlike the movies, driving faster was not the way to spot a tail. Only an amateur would immediately speed up when you did. Whereas, driving slower would force the tail car to stay closer to you and make him easier to spot. _Except at traffic lights_. Veronica took her foot off the gas like she was slowing down for the yellow light. As it turned red, she jammed her foot on the accelerator and flew through the intersection. A quick glance in her mirror confirmed that no one ran the red to follow her. She made a few more turns and headed home.

A _very_ large truck was parked in front of the house and Logan was standing on the porch with Wyatt as she pulled into the driveway. "One night. I'm cranky one night and he kicks me out." Veronica grabbed the bag with the ice cream. "Sending my stuff to my dad's? Or did you donate it all to Goodwill?"

"Goodwill- you know, for the tax write-off."

"Smart move." She joined them on the porch. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's rubber mulch." Logan put Wyatt down and bounded off the porch. Opening the trunk, he started to unload the groceries.

_Rubber?_ "Why do we need a truckload of rubber mulch?"

"For safety."

The vague answer meant he was up to something and she didn't need to be a detective to put together the clues. "You bought the S.W.I.N.G. set, didn't you?"

"No, _I_ bought rubber mulch." He paused on his way into the house and kissed her nose. "_Trina_ bought the thing you mentioned."

"And you just conveniently _forgot_ it was being delivered today?"

"Nope" —he grinned— "It says so right on the calendar."

Her gaze narrowed. What it said on their family calendar was _mulch_. Nowhere did it have the word _rubber_. "I thought that was for my garden." His smile widened. "I almost bought _bulbs_ today," she grumbled.

"Cat, Mama, cat!" Wyatt was hitting Veronica's thigh and pointing at the double-gate leading to the backyard; a CAT forklift was navigating its way in between the two PVC fence posts. It cut a path across the lawn and down the drive to the delivery truck.

Another man emerged from the yard and closed the gate before heading in their direction. He stopped at the foot of the stairs. "All set Mr. Echolls; I just need you to sign."

Putting down the shopping bags, Logan signed the man's clipboard and pulled some bills from his pocket for a tip. They shook hands and the deliveryman returned to the truck. Veronica spent a few seconds watching them load the forklift. Taking Wyatt's hand, she followed Logan into the house. "When I said _truckload_, I was being sarcastic."

He was already putting away the food. "Really? I thought you were just being observant."

Wyatt pulled her hand away from Veronica. "Me help." Squatting next to the bags, Wy started taking items out and stacking them on the floor. When she found the strawberries, she sat and tugged open the plastic container spilling berries across the hardwood. Picking them up one at a time, she took a bite from each before dropping it into the container.

Veronica bit back a smile. "Did you eat breakfast?"

Nodding, she ate another strawberry. "O's."

"Cheerios? With bananas?"

Wyatt pouted. "No nanas."

"Mommy bought some, why don't you look for them." The suggestion had Wyatt up and rummaging through the bags. Now that she was distracted with her banana search, Veronica scooped up the berries and put them on the counter.

"Nanas!"

Logan materialized from the depths of the pantry in time to snag the bunch of bananas from Wyatt's hands. He broke one off for her. "Do you want me to cut it up?"

"No, me 'key."

Veronica looked at him for a translation and he grinned. "She wants to eat it like a monkey." Peeling it halfway down, he handed it to her and she waddled into the living room making monkey noises.

"That's new."

"We read The Jungle Book." He crouched in front of the open refrigerator to put away the last few bags. "Are you still mad?"

"About the eight tons of mulch and the pile of railroad ties in our yard?"

"Actually it's ten… ten tons." Standing, he closed the fridge and leaned against it. "You need a six inch depth to prevent falling injuries."

When he didn't make any sexual innuendos about _six inches_ and _depth_, Veronica knew he was being serious. "Someone did their research."

"At least I can keep one of you—" He abruptly stopped talking. Pushing himself off the fridge, he turned his attention to the strawberries, discarding the half-eaten ones and rinsing the others. "Are you going into the office?"

Veronica didn't want to pursue his original line of conversation so she accepted the change of subject. "For an hour, maybe two? I need to create an employee access card for Kane Software."

"I thought you stole Nigel's card?"

"I did, well Amber did." She popped a strawberry in her mouth. The baby may have eaten breakfast, but she didn't and she was starving.

Opening the fridge, she stared at all the newly purchased food and decided she didn't want any of it. Veronica wandered into the pantry for the waffle iron, Bisquick, shortening, and vegetable oil. Dumping it all on the counter, she plugged in the iron and took down a bowl for the batter. Logan got the milk and eggs out of the refrigerator for her

"Nigel left right after I did so there's a chance he didn't notice it was gone until Thursday. If he thought he left it at home, he might've waited to report it missing, but I don't want to take any chances."

While she finished mixing the batter, he greased the waffle iron. "Why bother to steal it then?"

"I wanted the encryption key to make my own." Veronica poured the mix in the center of the hot iron and closed the lid. "Of course it would be easier if I had another original; it would help me decipher the sequence of the unique identifier."

"I guess asking Duncan for his would ruin the stealthy part of your operation."

_Duncan_. When she confronted Duncan in the hospital after the accident, he said that Lamb came to the house to tell him about the crash. _They had their Kane Software ID_. Lisa's access card was probably untouchable- locked away in evidence, but _Mac's_ card might be with her personal effects at the hospital.

Logan hip-checked her out of the way and rescued her waffle before it burned. "Syrup?"

A distracted head shake. _Her employee ID is probably still active_. A stop at the hospital to check on Mac and she wouldn't need to make her own card. Taking the Cake Batter ice cream from the freezer, she put a healthy-sized scoop on top of her waffle.

"Don't let Wyatt catch you eating that."

The mention of Wyatt made Veronica frown. "Why is it so quiet?"

"On it." Logan hurried from the kitchen.

There was always a constant buzz of noise with a toddler in the house. Aside from the toys that talked and made music, Wyatt usually kept up a steady stream of chatter. Plus there was the banging and clatter of things being spilled or dumped. When silence descended, Wy was usually doing something she was afraid they'd stop.

Logan returned carrying his cell. "It's fine, she's fine." Veronica arched a brow and waited for further explanation, but he only shook his head. "It's better if you see it."

There were nanny cams throughout the house even in the hallway, which is where their daughter was and Logan had that camera cued up on his phone. Wyatt was naked except for her tutu and she'd pulled her ducky potty from the bathroom. All her stuffed animals were lined up against the wall and she was making each one go "tee tee" in the potty.

"But wait, there's more." Logan reached over her shoulder to tap the screen and pull up video from Wyatt's room. It was only a few seconds before the baby walked into the frame carrying her stuffed elephant. She brought him to her Little Tikes sink, put his hands under the faucet, and rubbed them together while singing the 'wash, wash' song.

Veronica smiled. "Totally makes up for all the pouting and whining."

"Hers" —Logan smirked— "Or yours?"

"I do not whine." She turned and tilted her head so they were facing each other. "And you find my pouting adorable."

"Sexy too." Lowering his mouth to hers, his tongue grazed her bottom lip. "Mmm you taste like birthday cake."

Burying her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, she pulled him back for another, longer kiss. "I missed you last night." Not willing to take her bad mood out on him, she'd stayed in her office until he was asleep.

He waggled his eyebrows. "We could make up for it at naptime."

"I wish." Veronica brushed her lips over his one more time and released her grip on his hair. "I'm going to run up to the hospital to check on Mac and then maybe we can do some baby shopping before Fun Bowl."

"Fun Bowl," he muttered. Dropping into the chair next to her, he leveled her with an unamused glare. "I _hate_ Fun Bowl."

"Now who's pouting?"

"You know what they say, the family that pouts together, etcetera, etcetera."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "It's _prays_ together."

"Well, I'm _praying_ for no Fun Bowl." Pressing his hands together, he gave her a pleading, solemn look and she shook her head. "Great, three sucktastic nights in a row." —he ticked them off on his fingers— "No sex, Fun Bowl, and then Celeste's party."

"You're forgetting the dress." Straddling his lap, she kissed along his jaw. "And me out of the dress."

Logan smoothed his hands down her spine and over her ass pulling her closer. "Okay fine, but there's no way you can make bowling better."

"Challenge accepted." She snagged his bottom lip between her teeth and gave it a gentle tug. "Now why don't you go get your daughter dressed and come with me? She can nap in the car."

Standing, she left the kitchen in search of Wyatt's diaper bag; it was sitting on the bench of the hall tree by the front door and already stocked with the essentials. Veronica tossed in some books and travel toys then went to pack snacks. Logan was no longer in the kitchen, but he'd left his phone on the table and it was tuned to the _'I don't want to get dressed_' saga now playing in Wyatt's bedroom.

"No."

There was a moment of silence where Veronica was sure Logan was now praying for patience. "You have to wear a shirt Bean."

"No," she screeched.

"Look, this shirt has a tutu."

Veronica smiled. _The man is a genius_. She clicked out of the nanny cam app before round two, also known as _no pants_, could start. The stage of being able to undress herself and live her life naked was cute until you wanted to leave the house. Or you were already out of the house and she decided children's storytime at the library was a fine place to disrobe. Veronica finished packing goldfish and graham crackers and then added a banana and cheese cubes to the diaper bag.

The sound of laughter and running feet preceded Wyatt's arrival in the kitchen. She was wearing the white shirt with navy blue polka-dots and tutu hem, but except for a diaper her bottom half was bare. The offending navy blue leggings were clutched in her hand. She skirted behind the counter island to hide from Logan. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, Wyatt giggled giving away her position.

Putting the baby's ballet flats and lace-trimmed ankle socks on the counter, he asked, "Have you seen a little girl, about this tall" —he held out a hand to demonstrate her height— "Blonde pigtails and big blue eyes?"

More giggles. Veronica tapped her chin. "She sounds familiar, but I don't think I've seen her recently."

Logan shrugged. "Guess she doesn't want to go with—"

"Me bye-bye." She jumped from her hiding spot and threw herself at Logan's legs. "Me bye-bye."

"Then you need pants." Scooping her off the floor, he sat her on the island and finished getting her dressed. She banged her feet together and frowned at the leggings. It was a look that said if they didn't leave now she'd be naked again soon. Correctly reading the expression, Logan picked her up and headed for the front door. "Let's go Mars before we miss our window."

Veronica grabbed the diaper bag, set the alarm and followed him from the house. By the time she reached the car, the baby was already strapped in her car seat and her shoes were gone. She shook her head with a smile. Logan was circling the car toward the driver's side and Veronica blocked his path. "Let me drive."

Without question, he handed her the keys and returned to the passenger side. Veronica slid behind the wheel and passed him the diaper bag. He balanced it in his hands, weighing it. "How long are we going to be gone?"

"I put some books and toys in there to keep her entertained."

"And what's going to entertain me?"

"Thoughts of me?"

"That could get me arrested." She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Then again, I've never been arrested for indecent exposure before- it would really round out my rap sheet."

Veronica kept her eyes on the road and the rearview mirror. "Don't forget the lewd act charge."

"Hmm… do you think they've remodeled my cell? I loved its austere simplicity and the ambiance of desperation - I gave it five stars in my Yelp review."

"I'm sure it's just the way you left it."

"My cot had this perfect squeak to it, very soothing."

There was nothing soothing about the slight edge in his voice. Her reason for wanting to drive wasn't lost on him and she could feel his tension. Shifting in his seat, he leaned into the back ostensibly to check on the baby, but it was surely to scan the road behind them. Veronica pulled into the drive-thru at In-N-Out. "Double-double, animal style?"

"Sure."

No one followed them into the fast food restaurant. She inched the car closer to the window and surveyed the street. No familiar cars and nobody parked to wait for them. She ordered the same thing for herself and got a plain single burger for Wyatt. "Switch with me so I can eat?"

Logan dutifully obliged her request. Using the same caution she did, he drove slowly and took a circuitous route to the freeway. Once they were on the 5, he stayed to the right and kept his pace steady. "Have you talked to your dad?"

"I'm sure he's called them."

He nodded. "What time are we getting Laurel?"

"Five. I thought we could eat dinner at the bowling alley."

Chuckling, he glanced at her decimated burger. "Already thinking about dinner?"

"Mmm… sweet chili wings, mac and cheese bites, and the chocolate chip cookie melt."

"Have you memorized every menu in a ten mile radius?"

His question was drowned out by the shouted, "Cookie," from the backseat.

"I thought she was asleep," Veronica whispered. "You can have cookies later after dinner."

Logan pulled to the curb at the front entrance of the hospital. "Text me when you want to be picked up; we're going to each lunch at the P.A.R.K."

"Have fun." She shoved the last bite of burger in her mouth and stole a handful of his fries before getting out of the car. Pausing at the back window, Veronica blew kisses to the baby and waved.

The emergency entrance to the hospital was on the other side of the building leaving the main door for visitors. Aside from the two women behind a reception desk and a security guard the space was mostly vacant. It created a false sense of quiet that said focus on this beautiful, nicely appointed space and forget about the life and death battles happening beyond its reach. The lie made Veronica uneasy.

Not bothering with the elevator, she took the stairs to the second floor. Mac's personal things were probably in her room and the only people with access to her room were immediate family. It created a conundrum for her. Sneak into ICU to steal her friend's things and risk getting caught. Or, ask her family for them and have to explain why she wanted them. _Good job thinking this through, Veronica_.

She made her way to the waiting room hoping for Mr. Mackenzie or Ryan only to find Natalie. Mac's mom was sitting at the table staring out the window. She turned her head at the sound of the door. "Veronica."

"Hi." Crossing the room to join her, Veronica couldn't help but frown. "You're here by yourself?"

Natalie nodded. "I sent the boys home; they were a little… too much for me." She nudged the paperback sitting on the table. "I have a book."

It was doubtful that she'd even opened the book, never mind actually reading it. Her gaze was watery and there were dark circles under her eyes, but she looked better than she had a few nights ago. Natalie used her thumb and forefinger to twist at her wedding ring. Glancing at her hands, she forced them apart and hid them under the table.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

A slight head shake. "If I have anymore coffee, I'll…" Her voice trailed off as if she forgot what she was going to say. Her eyes darted to the window and back to Veronica. "The swelling has gone down."

"That's good."

Natalie's hands were back on the table and she resumed the twisting of her ring. "They've started to wean her off the…" She clutched at her neck, a stricken expression at having forgotten the name of the drug.

"Propofol?"

She shook her head. "No, that wasn't… they wanted a longer sedation period." Twist, twist, twist of the ring. "Midazolam" —she nodded at the name of the drug— "Yes, that's it- Midazolam.

"So they stopped waking her up during rounds?"

"Not since Monday."

Veronica sat down. _Four days in a deep coma and I didn't know_. "But they're weaning her off; that's a good sign, right?"

"Yes." A fleeting smile. "Once she's awake and can follow commands, they'll take her off the ventilator." She glanced at the clock and then the door. "I'm going to go back in and sit with her. I've been talking to her, reading." Natalie nudged the book again and then picked it up.

Veronica didn't know how to respond and she didn't know how to ask for Mac's things. When Natalie stood, she did too. "I'll walk with you."

"Thank you." She squeezed Veronica's hand as they left the waiting room and made their way down the hall toward ICU.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here."

"Richard said you were investigating the… trying to find the person responsible?"

_Thanks, Dick_. "I am."

As they approached the doors to the unit, a man in black tee shirt, jeans, and windbreaker stepped forward, nodding to Mrs. Mackenzie and staring at Veronica. Ignoring him, she stopped walking and turned to Natalie. "It might help if I could see Mac's things. The stuff she had with her when they brought her in."

Confusion clouded her gaze and she frowned. "How could that help?" At first her tone was uncertain, but then she nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. If you think it'll help, I'll get them for you." She pushed open the swinging door and paused. "They're in her room- you'll wait?"

"Right here." Veronica took a step back, but the guard didn't seem to relax. She introduced herself to him, "Veronica Echolls."

An appraising look. "Logan's wife?" The fact that he knew Logan was a little jarring. It was another reminder that her husband had an entire life separate from her. "Nice to meet you, I'm Chris."

She shook his outstretched hand. "Same." _Awkward_.

"How's Wyatt?"

"Good." _Please hurry up, Natalie_.

In answer to her silent plea, the door swung outward and Natalie was back holding two large white security bags. They were designed to let you know if someone tampered with the contents by using a two-inch blue VOID tape to seal the bag. She gave them to Veronica. "You keep them. Mac won't be…" Natalie forced a smile. "She'll just get them back from you when she wakes up, won't she?"

Without waiting for a response, she disappeared through the doors. Veronica stared at the bags. Mac's name and room number were written on the outside label and it was signed by the person who originally sealed the bags, one Iris Schafer, R.N. She started back the way they came.

The guard, _Chris_, called after her, "Tell Logan I said hello."

"I will." _Logan_. She didn't want to wait for him to pick her up before opening the bags. _The waiting room is empty_. Returning to the room, she put the bags on the table and took out her pocketknife. She sliced open the blue security tape and dumped the contents of the first bag: Mac's purse, watch, shoes, and a lariat with her Kane ID card.

_What else was she carrying?_ Opening the second security bag, she peeked inside and frowned. It was a familiar, worn leather knapsack, but it didn't belong to Mac. Veronica pulled out the knapsack —_Lisa's knapsack_— and set it on the table.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It was a battle to not open the knapsack. Half of her —the part who wanted to find the person responsible for killing Lisa and putting Mac in a coma— was urging her to look inside. The other half was telling her to call Norris and turn the purse over to the Sheriff's Department. _Yeah, cause they've done such a bang-up job investigating_.

She could go through it and satisfy her curiosity, but it was about more than the knapsack. If she opened it, she'd be pulled back in to the case and it would be that much harder to walk away. Her cell chimed with an incoming text. _Saved by the bell_.

Retrieving her phone, she checked the message to find a photo from Logan. Wyatt had ditched her pants and was rolling around in the grass, laughing. Veronica smiled and hit reply: _I'm ready when you are_. After pushing send, she scrolled through her contacts and placed a call to Norris.

He answered his phone with, "Clayton."

"How's my favorite deputy?"

"I was fine until I heard your voice; now all the hair on the back of my neck is standing up and my hands are clammy."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Veronica slipped Mac's employee access card into her messenger bag. "I'm at the hospital and—"

"How's Mac?"

"Good. The swelling is down and they're going to wake her up soon." She returned the rest of Mac's things to the security envelope and did the same with the knapsack.

"That's good news." He sighed. "But that's not why you're calling is it?"

"Not really, no. I was picking up Mac's things and Lisa's… purse must've gotten mixed in with her stuff by mistake." _Mistake, incompetence- why split hairs?_ "I can bring it to you in say, twenty minutes?" Silence greeted her offer. "I thought you might need it for the investigation?"

"Hold on a minute."

Veronica used the time to hide her forbidden cell phone use and skirt past the nurses station. She ducked into the stairwell and headed downstairs. Norris' minute stretched beyond one and, by the time she reached the lobby, she was starting to think he'd hung up on her. She checked the display and saw that the call was still connected. "Hello?"

The silence continued and she considered hanging up, but then Norris spoke: "Sorry, I just needed to get somewhere I could talk. There is no investigation Veronica, Lamb closed it."

"He _closed_ it?" She didn't expect him to investigate it as anything more than a fatal hit-and-run and she certainly didn't think he'd actually _solve_ it, but he couldn't just close the case.

"Well, officially it's still on the books until the clock runs out, but no one's actively working it."

The "clock" he was referring to was the statute of limitations, which was currently six years in the State of California for a hit-and-run. "It wasn't an accident, Norris. It was a homicide. Did he even look at the report?"

"He did and he thinks the resources of the department are better spent—"

"Lining his own pockets. What about the blue paint transfer on the bumper? Does he think _two_ cars just happened to hit them at the same time and then _both_ drivers decided to flee the scene?"

"How do you know about the blue paint transfer?"

"Am I wrong?"

Logan was already at the curb waiting for her. She opened the front door and he shushed her while pointing toward the backseat. After tossing the bags on the passenger seat, she peeked through the back window. Wyatt's eyelids were fluttering as she fought the losing battle against sleep. Stepping away from the car, Veronica returned to her own losing battle with the Sheriff's Department.

"No, you're not wrong. Before Lamb called me off, I had the paint sent to the lab for analysis. They narrowed the color down to bright blue, but GM, Ford, and Chrysler all used a similar color so they couldn't give me a make or model. There were more tests, but—"

"—Lamb had them stop," she finished his sentence. This was beyond frustrating. "I think the same car tried to run me over in front of Snooze yesterday."

His concern was immediate. "Are you okay?"

"Minor cuts and scrapes." She glanced back at the Audi. Logan was staring at her through the windshield, frowning.

"How can I help? I can get you copies of the accident and lab reports... crime scene photos- whatever you need."

"Send them to my dad at the office, okay?"

"I'll drop them by tonight on my way home."

Before he could hang up, she said: "One more thing, Lamb was going to pull footage from the bank cameras near Snooze- to see if there was a clear shot of the car that tried to hit me. Could you find out if he did it and get me a copy?"

"If he didn't, I'll go get it myself."

Veronica thanked him and disconnected the call. Pasting a smile on her face, she returned to the car and moved the bags to the floor. She kept her voice low so as to not wake Wyatt., "Ready for baby shopping?"

"No office?"

"No need." Leaning forward, she pulled the access card from her bag. "Mac and Lisa had their ID with them, which is how Lamb knew to notify Duncan about the accident."

Logan smirked. "And by notify you mean kiss Duncan's ass." Putting the car in drive, he pulled out of the parking lot. "Where do you want to go?" He glanced at her for an answer. "Uh-oh, I know that face; what's up Nancy Drew?"

She hedged. "Lisa's bag was brought to the hospital with Mac's things and when I called Norris to turn it over, he said Lamb closed the investigation."

There was a long pause from Logan like he was waiting for her to tell him she was back on the case. When she remained silent, he finally said: "Maybe it's not headline-worthy enough for our beloved Sheriff. There are something like six thousand hit-and-runs every year in Balboa County and the majority of them never get solved. Same for L.A."

"How do you even know that?"

"It's called a newspaper, Veronica."

She rolled her eyes. "Do they even print those anymore?"

Logan had a point; the sheriff was a glory-hound. Solving a hit-and-run, even one with a fatality, wouldn't generate big headlines. There didn't have to be an underlying reason Lamb ditched the investigation. The lack of news coverage was a totally plausible explanation. _But it's also possible that someone told him to stop_. She sighed. _Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?_ "The shadow knows," she murmured.

A sidelong glance from Logan. "The weed of crime bears bitter fruit," he intoned and she grinned. _There's my pop-culture loving husband_.

"Now if only I was psychic."

"Not necessary; you already have the local criminal element outwitted" —another smirk— "And local law enforcement too."

"You're good for a girl's ego." She gazed out the window and frowned. "Why are we driving in circles?"

"See, can't slip nothing past you." He made another right turn, which brought them back to the hospital. "I was giving you time to work out what's going on in your beautiful mind while also giving Wy ample time to nap. I'm not into dealing with a cranky toddler for the rest of the day."

"Why don't we just go back to the park?"

A sour expression. "Pass."

Veronica shifted in her seat to fully face him. "For someone who hates playgrounds so much, why are you hell-bent on building one in our yard?"

It was true. Logan rarely, if ever, took Wyatt to the park and if he did it was the one in Liberty Station. Even then, they spent most of their time by the water and away from the playground.

"If you want food you go to the grocery story, for gas you go to a gas station. If you want a kid you shop at the playground. It's like a big-box store of children for all the whack-jobs and weirdos."

"A little extreme dontcha think?"

He shrugged, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror and his view of Wyatt. Changing the subject, he asked: "You want to go to Goodnight Baby?"

"God no, ugh." It was the same place she'd purchased Wyatt's nursery furniture and received an unhealthy dose of judgment from _please-call-me-Becky_. "There's a baby store not far from the Grand."

Logan turned the car in that direction and took his time getting there trying to allow for Wyatt to wake up on her own. When that proved unsuccessful, he carefully transferred their sleeping daughter to the carriage and they kept their fingers crossed that her nap wouldn't be cut short.

Veronica had a list.

"Of course you do," Logan whispered with a smile. They started with the furniture. He wanted white for their daughter and she wanted a rustic, natural wood for their son. "Are we having a baby or a lumberjack?"

"Uh, last time I checked _you're_ not having either."

"Point taken." He slid his arms around her waist and rested his hands on her belly. "But _she's_ going to look very, very tiny in this big, hulking crib."

Veronica rolled her eyes and pushed the stroller further down the aisle. They compromised on a Shaker-style crib in a rich dark wood. When he started pulling the tags for the crib and all its matching furniture, she reached out to block his hand. "We don't need the dresser _and_ the chifferobe."

"Not now, but when she gets bigger we will." He added the kits to turn the crib first into a toddler bed and then a full-sized one and Veronica just shook her head when he grabbed _two_ bookshelf inventory tags.

Wyatt continued to sleep through their selection of a crib mattress, car seat, and a double stroller for both infant and toddler. But she woke up in the middle of the great bedding debate, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

Veronica was arguing for a neutral ivory, cream and taupe quilt pattern called snickerdoodle using the matching giraffe mobile with its "cuteness" factor as a lure. While Logan was holding out for the peach and sage green quilt with ruffled edges and _flowers_. "You're such a girl, Echolls."

Acknowledging her words with a smile, he held up the package. "And this is what you call pretty."

Fully awake now, Wyatt was chewing the tip of her finger and staring at the two of them. Her eyes grew wide and she popped her finger from her mouth to point at the bedding Veronica was holding. "'raffe!"

Veronica offered him a smug smile. "I _told_ you they were adorable."

Logan shook his head. "Okay, okay. You win, Mars." He put his quilt back on the shelves. "I know when I'm outnumbered."

Smile still firmly in place, Veronica added the lamp, hamper and crib sheets —all printed with the cute giraffe— to the cart. "Come on, I'll make it up to you and let you buy some tiny pink dresses."

"Next time, it's almost five and we need to get Laurel." Squatting next to the stroller, he freed a wriggling Wyatt who made a beeline for the stuffed giraffe that went with the bedding set. She hugged the plush animal to her chest with a vise grip. "Guess we'll be getting two of these," Logan said as he tossed another one in the cart.

"Sucker," Veronica muttered under her breath as she pushed the cart past him and headed for the counter.

After he paid for everything and loaded the bags into the empty stroller, Logan left her to schedule the furniture delivery. Taking Wyatt's hand, he started walking from the store. "So what are you going to name your new giraffe?"

The baby frowned. "'raffe." She held out the stuffed animal and waved it at him so Logan could see that it was indeed a giraffe.

"That's what she _is_, but—"

The door closed on their conversation and Veronica finished filling out the address on the delivery card. When she joined them outside, Logan was leaning in the open car door giving Wyatt name suggestions. "Jessie?"

"No."

"You're right, too boring. Lola Longneck?"

A giggled, "No."

Veronica climbed into the passenger seat. "I think it's a boy and you should call him Jerry." Her suggestion was met with a duet of _no_.

Logan shut the door, loaded the bags in the trunk and slid behind the wheel. "I have the perfect name- Saffy, like the giraffe in your book."

"Saffy!" Was the enthusiastic response from the backseat.

He grinned. "And we have a winner."

For the entire drive to the Grand they got to hear the only part of the book Wyatt remembered. It was a continuous loop of _'Mama tall, Saffy small.' _Thankfully it was a short trip.

As soon as Logan pulled up in front of the hotel, Veronica was hopping out of the car. "You wait here; I'll go get Laurel."

She expected to have to call up to the room, but on her way to the front desk, Duncan called out her name. Turning, she found him crossing the lobby toward her with Laurel lagging more than a few paces behind. "Ready for a family fun night of bowling?"

"Uh-huh." The morose tone, bent head, and shuffling feet said Laurel would rather be doing anything but bowling.

Veronica inclined her head toward the moody preteen in a silent _'what gives'_ gesture and Duncan shrugged an _'I don't know' _in response. "Okay, then… we should be back by eight, eight-thirty."

There was a bounce to her step as Laurel spun around and headed for the exit. "Bye Dad," she called over her shoulder. Shaking her head at the mercurial mood shift, Veronica started after her.

"Wait" —he grabbed Veronica's arm— "Can we talk for a minute?"

The question made Laurel pause and turn back, but Veronica waved her on. "Logan and Wyatt are right out front." Laurel didn't need to be told twice; disappearing through the double glass doors.

"Thanks for doing this." Misunderstanding her frown, he clarified. "For taking Laurel bowling, despite appearances, she's been looking forward to it."

"You can let go of my arm now Duncan."

He glanced down at where his hand was still wrapped around her forearm and immediately released his hold. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"I thought maybe we could have lunch? You can tell me about life in Neptune and I'll tell you about life on the run." A coaxing smile with a flash of dimples. "We can go to the Edgewater Grill and walk around Neptune Village?"

It was what they did on their first official date: lunch, a ride on the carousel, and ice cream, all at Neptune Village. "Can't- Logan has plans tomorrow."

"I, uh, meant…" He dragged a hand through his hair. "We can still go, right? You, me, and the kids."

_The kids_. If she wanted Laurel to be a part of their lives and for things to not be awkward every time they had to see Duncan, they needed to have a conversation. _But not tomorrow and not without Logan_. "There's a lot going on right now; let me talk to Logan and—"

"Does Veronica Mars have to ask for permission first?" It was said in a teasing fashion with a genuine smile, but it was that same mocking tone and it annoyed her.

"This was a mistake." She started to walk away and he grabbed her arm again. Tugging her wrist free, she whirled around to face him. "What is it that you want from me Duncan?"

He staggered back a step, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "I want us to be friends like we used to be."

Veronica had a hard time remembering them ever being friends. _Dating or ignoring my existence sure, but friends?_ "You mean when we were twelve? A lot has happened since then and we're not- _I'm_ not the same person anymore."

Holding out his hands in a pleading gesture, he asked: "Can't we at least try?"

She swallowed the automatic no. _Laurel is Lilly's niece, Veronica_. "When the case is over and Mac is out of the hospital, the _three_ of us —you, me, _and_ Logan— will talk. Now, I have to go." Without waiting for him to respond, she turned on her heel and walked outside to rejoin her family.

"Everything okay?" Logan asked as she climbed into the car.

"What this? This is my game face." Veronica pointed to her face and at the same time used their not in front of the baby signal, tipping her head in the direction of the backseat and giving it a small shake. "I'm getting ready to beat you at bowling."

"Hmm… the same way you 'beat' me at mini-golf?" Putting the car in gear, he pulled away from the curb.

"Please, I had that game totally won, I was just hungry."

"Well then, I'm going to have to make sure to properly feed you first; it's before midnight so we're safe."

Veronica issued a fake gasp. "Are you calling me a _gremlin_?"

He nodded. "My very own gizmo who is both tiny and cute."

"You know what that means, right? No sunlight and" —she dropped her voice to a husky whisper—"You can't get me wet."

A smirk. "I can do _that_ without even using my ha—" Remembering they weren't alone in the car; he snapped his mouth shut and glanced at the rearview mirror. "Uh… so do you like to bowl Laurel?"

"It's okay, I guess." She shrugged. "Surfing's better."

Veronica twisted in her seat to see her. "Your dad told me he bought a house- is it on the beach?"

"Sorta, but it's too rocky for surfing."

Saffy the giraffe went sailing to the floor and Wyatt started to kick at her seat. "Me out." Wy liked riding in the car and she didn't mind her carseat, but she had her limit. _And apparently we've reached it._

"We're almost there Bean."

Laurel picked up the stuffed animal and handed it back to the baby. "Is your giraffe going to bowl with us?"

Wyatt nodded. "Saffy bow'."

"Does she know how to bowl?"

The emphatic, "Yes," from Wy made Veronica smile. She could see it now- Saffy the bowling giraffe. Laurel continued to ask questions about what else Saffy could do —can she read, swim, dance— and yes was the answer to everything. The conversation distracted Wyatt from her confinement right up to the moment Logan parked at the bowling alley. Then Saffy went flying and the baby started to squirm. "Me out."

Chuckling, Logan got out of the car and freed Wyatt. Veronica slipped out of the car and retrieved the bags from the footwell. "You guys go ahead; I'm going to put these in the trunk and get my camera."

"We can wait." The wriggling toddler in his arms belied his statement. Wyatt wanted _down_.

"Try to get two lanes in the center" —she circled the car and opened the trunk— "And don't forget the bumpers."

"Bumpers? That's not very sportsmanlike of you."

"I don't need bumpers to beat you, Echolls."

"We'll see."

Veronica started to put the security bags in the trunk. For the most part, she'd managed to not think about Lisa's knapsack all afternoon, but now, with it in her hand, she was finding it harder to avoid. She exchanged the security bag for her camera case leaving the knapsack in the trunk. It was probably just filled with the normal detritus of everyday life: wallet, keys, cell phone, receipts, change. The likelihood that it contained the smoking gun to solve the case was about as realistic as Duncan's expectations of lunch and friendship.

Fun Bowl wasn't crowded, which allowed Logan to get the two middle lanes Veronica wanted and made it easy to find him. He was squatting in front of their daughter trying to finish putting on her bowling shoes. It wasn't that Wyatt didn't want the shoes, she was just having trouble sitting still. She kept twisting in her seat to look at the other bowlers, pointing at the pins, and trying to get close to the ball return. "Me bow'."

"But first you need shoes." Logan quickly shoved the shoe on her foot and tied it. Rocking back on his heels, he helped her slide off the chair and she was gone, running down the alley toward the pins. He gave chase and caught her as she crossed the foul line. Logan knelt next to her, his hand splayed across her belly holding her in place while he tried to explain the finer points of bowling. Pulling out her camera, Veronica snapped a picture of the two of them.

"Did Logan's dad really kill my Aunt Lilly?"

Laurel's blunt question almost made Veronica lose her grip on the Nikon. She slowly lowered it and stared at the girl. "Let me guess- Celeste?"

"Yeah." She glanced at Logan and Wyatt and then her gaze dropped to the floor. "I heard her telling my dad to keep me away from…" Another quick glance toward Logan as she dropped into one of the hard plastic chairs. "She didn't want me to come tonight."

_Fuck you, Celeste_. To stop herself from unleashing on Laurel, Veronica was clenching her jaw so tight her teeth hurt. Protecting her family wasn't just keeping them from physical harm; it was sparing them from the poison that was Celeste Kane. "Your grandmother is a—"

"Veronica," Logan cut off her diatribe before she could get underway. "Maybe you should help Wyatt pick out a ball." He put the baby down, but took hold of her hand to keep her from running back to the alley. "She wants a blue one."

Wyatt nodded. "Boo."

Standing, she took Wy's other hand and turned to Laurel. "Want to come with us?" The invitation got Laurel on her feet. "I need to get shoes too, since _somebody_" —Veronica pointed to Logan— "Forgot mine."

"Are you really going to bowl?" He directed a pointed look at her knee. "You've been on it all day."

"Afraid of a little competition?"

"_Little_ being the operative word in that sentence." He kissed her nose and smoothed his fingers over her cheek. "I'll order you dinner so you can grow big and strong one day."

"Boo, Mama." Wyatt gave her hand an impatient tug.

"I'll help you find a ball." Laurel's offer prompted Wy to pull her hand free and scramble up the stairs toward the ball racks.

"Don't go too far," Logan called. He pointed to a nearby stand. "The smaller ones are there."

"And if anyone knows about small balls it would be you." Weevil's insult was timed as perfectly as his entrance.

"Ah, the manual labor has arrived." Logan clapped him on the back in greeting. "Think you can carry the food, Paco? Or is waiter too skilled a job for you?"

Weevil chuckled. "The white boy thinks he's got wit."

All three girls were far enough away to not hear their conversation —Valentina having joined Wyatt and Laurel— but Veronica threw up her hands to stop the good-natured ribbing. "Enough. Seriously you two should just get a room or at the very least my food."

In a stage whisper to Weevil, Logan warned: "Back away slowly, she can smell fear."

"Go," Veronica laughed as she pointed toward the food bar.

They obliged her demand and she sat back down. Logan was right; bowling with her knee was probably not a good idea and she needed to focus on finding Mr. Slip and Fall.

She watched the girls pick out their bowling balls. Grabbing her camera, she snapped a few pictures of them. If someone had told her that one day Weevil's daughter would be playing alongside Logan's daughter, she'd have rushed them to the hospital to check for possible brain damage. Now with the addition of Laurel, the only child missing was one that would never exist. _Lilly as soccer mom_. The idea made Veronica smile. _We haven't forgotten you, Lil_.

Wyatt was pouting as she trailed behind the older girls on their way back to the alley. Her dissatisfaction was clearly the fact that Laurel was carrying two bowling balls and Wyatt had none. "I think it's too heavy," Laurel explained.

The ball in question was blue. "It's okay Wy, Daddy will help you with it."

Her little face brightened and she nodded. "Daddy help."

Of course Daddy helping meant there was very little actual bowling that took place. Every time Logan tried to bowl his own frame, Wyatt thought it was her turn again. The blue ball was indeed too heavy and the only way she could "make go" was to kneel on the foul line and push. Once or twice it stopped in the middle of the lane and Wy went running down the alley to try to knock over the pins by herself.

Veronica watched most of it through the lens of her camera; taking enough photos for an entire book of 'Wyatt Goes Bowling' while scanning the other bowlers in search of her quarry. It was the perfect cover because Veronica looked exactly like what she was –a pregnant mom taking pictures of her husband and daughter.

Shifting position, she moved the lens beyond Logan and Wyatt, located Michael Galan a/k/a Mr. Slip and Fall and snapped a few more frames of him bowling. The photos would be enough to prove that Galan was lying about his injuries and put an end to his lawsuit against Jimmy Kincaid and Smart Start.

_Photos. _Frowning, Veronica lowered the Nikon. _None of the newspaper articles contained pictures_. The absence of photos didn't matter for _Lisa_; she already knew what the Calabrese brothers looked like. _But I don't_. She'd been ruling out the people from Lisa's other cases —the employees at Kane Software, the trophy wife's young looking drug dealer and now even Michael Galan— based on logical conclusions. _But what if I'm wrong? What if our paths have already crossed?_ What she needed were photos of everyone involved in the Calabrese trial.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

They'd been talking surfing —breaks, massive swells, wipeouts— since walking out of Fun Bowl. Veronica wasn't interested in the conversation, but it was nice to see Laurel so engaged and animated. This was the same girl Veronica caught glimpses of during their day at Belmont Park- the grinning, happy one who high-fived Logan after surfing the FlowBarrel. Veronica was glad that Celeste's opinion of Logan was not influencing her granddaughter; Laurel had been talking to him most of the night.

After Weevil brought up cars —specifically making arrangements for Logan to retrieve the BMW— the topic had somehow turned to street racing. From there it was an endless discussion about extreme sports and the dangerous things Logan had attempted: base jumping, skydiving, white-water rafting, cliff diving, and bungee jumping. Laurel was most impressed with his career as a fighter pilot and she'd artfully finagled an invitation to go flying next time he went up.

Wyatt's yawning and eye rubbing had brought their night of bowling to a close and she'd fallen asleep in Logan's arms on the walk to the car. Now her soft snoring punctuated the infrequent lulls in the ongoing surf talks.

Veronica returned to her phone. Google was being uncooperative. A general image search for Anthony Calabrese resulted in hundreds of photos, which included a mugshot from the seventies for famed Chicago mobster, Frank Calabrese, Sr. –no relation as far as she could tell; an attorney in Cleveland who pleaded not-guilty to corruption charges and, for some reason, a picture of Alex Rocco in his role as Moe Greene from the Godfather movie. _Thanks Google_. She typed in: _Vinnie Calabrese murder trial_.

"—big wave surfing?" She caught the tail end of Laurel's question, but it was Logan's lack of response that made Veronica look up from her phone.

Finally he said, "Yeah, once" —a slight head shake— "But it was a reckless and stupid idea."

"What happened?" Laurel's question echoed Veronica's thought.

"Two wave hold-down."

The incomplete answer wasn't enough for Laurel; she leaned forward and peppered him with questions. "Where were you? Did someone have to pull you out? Were you using a leash? Did it have a quick release?"

"No more hanging out with Veronica for you," he muttered under his breath. "I was at Mavericks."

"Wow! Really?" From the awe in her voice, Veronica gathered that this was impressive. "Dad said he'd take me up there to see the invitational."

"Your grandfather almost took us, but…" Logan's voice faltered and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

Missing his signs of distress, Laurel said: "You should totally come with us."

"Maybe," he offered.

"Is it far?"

"Eight hour drive, give or take" —he glanced at Veronica— "It's about a half hour from Stanford University." Their arrival at the Neptune Grand saved Logan from Veronica's inevitable questioning at his mention of Stanford and the quick smile he flashed her said he knew this. "Come on, I'll walk you upstairs."

"Uh, my grandm… Celeste is probably there."

Logan smirked. "Afraid I'll hit her with a bucket of water and make her melt?"

Laurel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from smiling, but it was unsuccessful and a grin spread across her face. "Just watch out for the flying monkeys, okay?"

"I will," he promised with a solemn nod. Encouraging Laurel to make fun of her grandmother was probably not the most adult behavior, but old habits died hard. Veronica shrugged. _Celeste brings it on herself_.

"Night Veronica." Laurel hopped out of the car, paused, and leaned back in. "Thanks for bowling."

"You're welcome, thanks for coming with us."

With a wave, Laurel shut the car door and joined Logan on the curb. Veronica watched them disappear into the hotel and then returned her attention to her phone.

The first article from her new search contained a few photos of the late Vinnie Calabrese at the start of his trial —brown hair and eyes, prominent brow, lantern jaw, and a slight widow's peak— he was sitting at the defense table in a tailored suit with an arrogant grin on his face. Veronica scrolled through the articles. By the end of the month long trial, Vinnie was no longer so cocky and the picture of him with the 'Guilty!' headline showed a man who looked a lot older than his thirty-five years.

She followed the links to an article about the manhunt for Anthony Calabrese. Since he'd fled before an arrest could be made, there was no booking photo for the murder of Andres Salgado, but there were plenty from his previous life of crime. He had the same basic features as his older brother, but Anthony was clearly the better looking of the two. _Better looking and not familiar to me at all._

"Lunch with Duncan?" Logan asked as he slid behind the wheel and drove away from the hotel.

"Huh?" Veronica closed the browser and tucked the phone in her messenger bag.

"Duncan told me he asked you to join him for lunch tomorrow." The angry tone was incongruous with his relaxed posture and easy movements.

_Silly Logan, I know you too well to fall for this act_. "You don't mind, right? It sounded like fun- an expensive lunch, ice cream and maybe a ride on the carousel. Wyatt will love it."

He cast a bewildered look in her direction and she gave away the game by laughing. "Not nice, Mars."

"Me?" She asked incredulously. "You're the one pretending to be all in a huff."

Tipping his head in her direction, he conceded the point. "Is his invitation what had you upset earlier?" Logan held out a hand and she wove her fingers through his.

"Not upset, annoyed. He wants us to be friends."

"And what do you want?"

"To find Stewart Manning's accomplice and be done with this case." Leaning back in her seat, she closed her eyes. "Laurel had a good time tonight."

"Mmm-hmm." He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers. "I get it, Veronica."

"Get what?" Opening her eyes, she turned her head to look at him.

"What you're saying by not saying anything- I know you too, remember."

"Oh yeah? Okay, ole wise one what am I saying?"

"That Duncan isn't going away and we need to work it out; get over the past, be friends, especially if we want to keep seeing Laurel."

"She's Lilly's niece," Veronica murmured. "And Meg's daughter." A gentle squeeze of her hand said he was okay with whatever she decided to do. Eventually she knew they'd have to talk about it, but not tonight. "Mavericks?"

Logan nodded. "Duncan and I watched a tape of the big wave competition and Jake promised to take us up there, but the next one didn't happen until February" —a slight pause— "February 2004."

There was no need to ask why Jake didn't keep his promise, but that's not what she wanted to know. "Two wave hold-down?"

"Oh look we're home." He hit the button to open the garage door and pulled inside.

"It's funny that you think being home means you don't have to answer."

"Okay." Logan turned off the car. "There's this spot inside the corner where there's this steep underwater drop off and I got held under by two massive waves." He shrugged. "Better than getting swept through the cauldron."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." He disentangled their hands. "Yes, I was coming to see you, but I couldn't make myself take the exit so I just kept going." Cupping her face, he stroked his thumb across her cheek. "Why so sad?"

"You could've died, Logan."

"That was the point."

"Don't… just don't." Pulling away from him, she opened the car door and got out. Reading his journal was hard enough, but hearing him talk about it —his death wish— shredded her heart. She turned off the alarm, left the door open for him and went around turning on lights to dispel the darkness.

Logan carried the baby to bed and Veronica followed him down the hall. Leaning in the doorway, she watched as he gently removed Wyatt's shoes and socks. He cradled her foot in the palm of his hand —a tender smile on his face— and kissed her toes.

Gingerly, he took off her leggings and her tutu shirt, leaving her in just a tee shirt and diaper. Wyatt twisted and stretched making little grunts and whimpers trying to force her eyes open and shake off sleep. Logan gently stroked her hair, soothing her restlessness. Rolling onto her belly, she folded her arms under her body and tucked her knees to her chest, raising her butt in the air. Logan rubbed her back until she settled with a soft sigh.

_I came so close to losing him forever and I didn't even know it_. Each of those _'reckless and stupid'_ things from the past could've been the last and he wouldn't be here with her now. There would be no Wyatt, no baby. Veronica chewed at her bottom lip.

"Hey." Logan crossed the room to her and lightly tapped her mouth with his fingertip. "Be nice to that lip, it's my favorite."

Burying her hands in his hair, she pulled his head down and closed her mouth over his. Logan let her take what she wanted —comfort, solace— she didn't know. The only thing was this driving need to be close to him, to prove that he was real and not going anywhere. She tugged his shirt free and pushed the material up his body. Taking a step back, breaking their kiss, Logan grabbed the back of his collar and yanked off his shirt.

Pressing her palm against his chest, she felt the reassuring beat of his heart beneath her fingers. There was too much space between them. She closed the gap, winding her arms around his neck and bringing him back for another kiss.

Logan's hands skimmed down her spine and cradled her hips, lifting her from the floor and walking them toward their bedroom. Veronica wrapped her legs around his waist both grateful for the contact and annoyed that they were still wearing clothes. She writhed against him as she pulled at the hem of her shirt.

"Slow down," he whispered. His hand rubbed lazy circles up her back in a soothing pattern as he pressed tiny kisses across her face. "You're crying."

She didn't want to talk. Bending her head, she nipped at his ear and kissed down the side of his neck while her fingers found and undid the snap of his jeans. He was straining against the front of the denim and she fumbled with the zipper eager to free him. Dropping her legs to the floor, she jerked the zipper lower.

Logan closed his hands over hers, staying their frantic movements and took a step back. He flicked on the bedside light. "What's going on?"

"Uh, I'm trying to have sex with my husband." She pushed him down on the bed. "But as per usual, he's talking too much."

Veronica stripped off her shirt and tossed it away. Unclasping her bra, she peeled it down her arms and added it to the pile. Logan was propped on his elbows watching her, concern in his eyes at the utilitarian way she was rushing through this, but there was also a hint of desire that she needed to cultivate. Offering him that little half smile, she knew he found sexy, she slowed down. She cupped her breasts and stroked her thumbs back and forth across her nipples. Logan's gaze was riveted, his eyes growing heavy-lidded and darkening with lust. _So easy_.

Sliding her hands lower, she hooked her thumbs in the waist of her leggings. Little by little she shimmied the pants down as she moved closer to the bed, pushing the thin fabric over her hips and past her knees. She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked them the rest of the way off as she reached for Logan. This time he let her finish unzipping his jeans and he didn't stop her as she stripped them from his body. Lowering her mouth, she circled the tip of his cock with her tongue and he groaned. She did it again. "Is this slow enough for you?"

As soon as she asked the question, she realized her mistake. The words brought back his concern and he frowned at her. Sitting, he scooped her up and laid her on the bed. "Let's talk."

"Let's not and say we did." She grabbed handfuls of his hair and tried bringing his mouth in for another kiss, but he resisted. Veronica let her arms fall to her sides. "You're killing the mood."

"Am I?" Bending his head, he kissed down the column of her throat and sucked at the sensitive hollow of her collarbone. He blew across her damp skin and tiny shivers raced their way down her body. "I don't want to stop" —he palmed her breasts and circled her nipples with his thumbs— "I just want you to talk to me."

"We _are_ talking." She wrapped a leg around his waist, arched her back and rotated her hips against his.

"Veronica."

A sigh parted her lips; he wasn't going to let it go. "You almost died."

It took him a minute. "Are you talking about _Mavericks_?" A baffled expression crossed his face. "That was _years_ ago, Veronica."

"I know, but… I don't want to lose you Logan." Her tongue felt thick and it was hard to push the words out. It was all pressing in on her. That _fear_. Of losing him, their family, their life together, and to hear him be so blasé about almost dying made it all feel more fragile.

"I'm not going anywhere Veronica." He rolled them on their sides and kissed her. "You and Wyatt and this baby" —his hand molded itself around her belly— "Are my entire world. I'm not going to do anymore rash and crazy shit."

She trailed her fingers down his jaw. "I would totally kick your ass if you did."

Logan grinned. "I'd like to see that."

"You would." Veronica pushed his shoulder into the mattress and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the comforting thump of his heartbeat as she wiped away the remnants of her tears. "Now the conversation portion of our evening is over."

The frantic urgency of earlier was gone, but the need to be close to him still remained. She licked her way down his stomach and darted her tongue in his navel before moving lower. Her pace was languid and slow as she savored the feel of him beneath her hands and the taste of him in her mouth. _Mine_.

Logan tucked her hair behind her ear, his eyes never leaving her face. Veronica knew when he was getting close by the way he gripped the sheets and she pulled back. She slithered her way up his body and he urged her forward until her knees were on either side of his head. She gripped the headboard as his tongue darted inside her. He matched her pace with long, languid strokes of his tongue and then rapid little flicks across her clit. His tongue swirled around her and then he pulled her down and started to suck, drawing her into his mouth.

"Lo-_gan_." The end of his name escaped on a moan. She was so close. Her thighs started to tremble as he laved her clit with broad strokes and slid two fingers deep inside. Crooking them forward he found that rough patch of skin and drew his fingers back and forth across the sensitive spot. Writhing against him, she tossed her head back and groaned his name as she came.

Effortlessly he lifted her limp body and splayed her across the mattress. "So loud you are." He grinned and stuck his fingers in his mouth sucking in the taste of her.

An answering smile spread across her face. "And there you go talking again." Parting her legs, she raised her hips from the mattress. "Back to work."

"Best job ever." He grabbed a pillow and put it under her, raising her hips higher and positioning her at just the right angle. He licked up her inner thigh and over her still sensitive clit making her shudder. Gripping her hips, he slowly slid inside. "You feel so good _Ve-ro-ni-ca_." He stretched out each syllable of her name as he filled her.

Digging the heel of her foot into his ass, she pulled him deeper. Logan leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him. Savoring the feel of him filling her and surrounding her. "I love you, Logan."

He started to move, hitting her spot on each downward thrust and she met each one, frantically crashing her hips into his. Sweat dripped down his chest and she slid her palms up his slick skin and down the muscles in his arms. _Beautiful_. She slipped her hand between their bodies and touched herself. Logan bent his head to watch and his eyes glazed over.

Veronica knew he was close by the grunts he was making. She pressed her fingers hard against her clit and moved them in fast, tight circles. She gasped as her orgasm hit and her muscles clenched around Logan. He came with her name on his lips and collapsed on the bed next to her.

Immediately he drew her closer, enfolding her in his arms and brushing the damp hair from her face to kiss her forehead. "I love you too, Veronica." He ran his palm over the curve of her hip, down the side of her thigh and grazed her knee. "So much for resting it."

Eyes closed, she stretched and smiled. "Totally worth it."

"Mmm." He kissed her shoulder and reached behind her for a pillow. Folding it in half, he placed it under her leg and elevated her knee. "Do you want me to get you an ice pack?"

"No" —she pulled his arms around her waist— "I want you to stay here with me." Rolling over, she nestled in his arms; pressing her back to his chest and burrowing deeper into the bed.

"What did I tell you about wiggling your ass against me?"

"That you love it." The smug answer earned her a playful bite of her shoulder. "If I don't get up, I'm going to fall asleep."

"Good plan." Logan grabbed the side of the comforter and wrapped it around them and then started to rub her neck.

With a little sigh of pleasure, she started to drift toward sleep. "You have a devious mind," she mumbled.

"Takes one to know one."

"Then why don't you go break in to Kane Software for me and I'll stay here. Just remember to take a good selfie inside the Smartpaper lab and text it to Clarence."

"Unfortunately, B&amp;E is not one of my many talents" —his tongue traced the shell of her ear— "But if you stay home I'll demonstrate some of my other skills." As a preview, he trailed his fingers along her clavicle and stroked the base of her throat before sliding lower and dipping beneath the blanket.

Through the comforter Veronica grabbed his hand, pinning it to her skin and preventing it from reaching its destination. "Don't tempt me."

"Ah, so you admit it's tempting."

"You know you are." She rolled away from him and dragged her body from the bed. "Wait up for me?"

"I'll keep the bed warm." The sentiment was sweet, but the smile was salacious. His gaze caressed her skin; its heat making her feel flush. Turning away, she gathered clothes from the dresser and started for the bathroom. "Want me to wash your back?"

"You stay put," she commanded. Veronica firmly shut the bathroom door behind her and twisted the lock. His chuckle traveled through the pine door and she turned on the shower, drowning out the sound of his amusement.

She kept her shower short.

When Duncan hired her to investigate the espionage, he told her there were roving patrols around the perimeter of Kane Software and a security guard posted outside the Smartpaper lab. During her own reconnaissance she'd noted the new floodlights and CCTV cameras, but she'd seen a glaring omission in the security upgrades and no guards had questioned her presence at the rear of the building.

Veronica finished drying her hair and returned the towel to the rack. She'd considered wearing a disguise —she didn't look like Mac and an inspection of her ID would reveal her as a fraud— but she'd abandoned the idea. As long as she played the part of late-working computer programmer she shouldn't have any problems. She put on a pair of black suit pants and topped it with a black, sleeveless button-down shirt. After carefully pinning up her hair, she used a mod cap with a black and white pinstriped band to hide her blonde locks.

Logan was gone when she exited the bathroom. _So much for keeping the bed warm_. In the closet, she found a comfortable pair of ballet flats and a grey linen jacket to complete her outfit and hide baby Echolls.

The smell of bacon lured her from the bedroom and down the hall. Logan was at the stove in a worn pair of grey sweats slung low on his hips. He was trying to stand far enough away to not get burned by the grease as he turned the slices of bacon.

"Whatcha making?"

"A snack." Donning a potholder, he pulled a baking sheet from the oven with a loaf of crunchy French bread in its center. The bread was sliced length-wise and he'd melted Gruyère cheese on both sides. He topped the bubbly cheese with paper-thin slices of a honeycrisp apple.

"That does not look healthy enough for you."

"Good thing it's for you then." Turning off the burner, he flipped the bacon onto a paper towel and blotted the excess fat before adding it to the sandwich. Veronica's mouth watered as he cut it in half and wrapped it in aluminum foil.

"Are you packing me lunch for work?" A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"Does it need a brown bag to make it official?" He handed her the warm sandwich and a travel mug and kissed her nose. "You didn't eat a lot at dinner."

_Of course he would notice_. Thinking about Duncan's lunch invitation, Celeste's nasty insinuations, and Lisa's knapsack while hearing about all of Logan's near-death exploits _and_ trying to focus on her case had left her little time to eat. Now her stomach grumbled and she didn't know if she could wait to reach the car before biting into her _snack_. "What's in the cup?"

"Chocolate milk." He kissed her cheek. "Now I'm going back to bed; have fun sleuthing and try—"

"I know, I know- try not to get arrested." Veronica followed him from the room and admired his long, lean form as he sauntered down the hall. Forgoing tonight's errand and eating her fancy grilled cheese in bed with her husband was suddenly under serious consideration. Sighing, she gathered her stuff and left the house.

She ate her sandwich on the way. The savory, sweet, and salty combination of flavors on the fresh toasted bread was almost better than… she shook her head: _not even close, but still good. _

There were two options for tonight's infiltration: the high-tech —mounting a gun scope on her tripod and using it to aim a green laser at the security camera to create blooming— and the low-tech. The high tech would get her inside, but it wouldn't allow her to move freely throughout the building and it would ruin her ruse of hard-working, diligent employee burning the midnight oil.

She popped the last bite of sandwich in her mouth as she pulled to the curb in front of Wallace's new apartment building. _New condo_, she corrected.

His two-bedroom unit was on the top floor of the three-story building with a balcony that overlooked the street. The complex offered a long list of amenities including a full gym with weight room and sauna, which meant Logan spent more time here with Wallace than she did. It also had a gated parking garage, state-of-the art security system, and a doorman. Plus it was closer to Neptune High and it came without all the bad memories of his last place.

Wallace was already waiting outside, leaning against the burnt orange retaining wall that separated the terraced landscaping of yucca plants and palm trees from the sidewalk. He scooped up the basketball he was dribbling and opened the car door. "I didn't think it was possible, but your requests for help have gotten weirder as we've grown older." He raised a quizzical eyebrow and patted the ball. "Care to explain?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?"

"I think I miss the simple days when all you wanted were permanent files." He dropped the ball on the floor and fastened his seatbelt. "At least then I got spirit boxes with snickerdoodles."

Putting the car in drive, she continued down Pell, made her first left and another left onto Camino traveling parallel with the 5. "If cookies are all you want—"

"Maybe I'll take your dad's advice and hold out for a better offer this time."

"I'm sorry, you've been misled, there is no better offer- me and cookies that's all you get." Veronica grinned. "Oh and a cute little girl who calls you Unca Wa."

Wallace shook his head. "Using your own child to sweeten the deal, have you no shame Veronica Mars?" Her mouth opened in mock outrage and he smiled. "How is the precocious mini-you?"

"There you go confusing your words again because I'm sure you meant precious."

"Uh-huh." He sounded distracted. Veronica coasted down the exit ramp and glanced at him. He was staring out the passenger window, his shoulders rigid. He must have felt her scrutiny, because he turned back and asked: "Where are we going?"

"Kane Software."

His tension deflated. "I thought" —a quick head shake— "Why Kane Software?"

No need to ask what he thought- he was afraid she was taking him to the scene of Mac's accident. "I need to check the security and I need you and your jump shot to help me get inside."

The ring of security lights around Kane Software acted as a lighthouse beacon in the otherwise dark office park. Veronica drove past the entrance and made the left into the drive of the building next door. Snapping off her headlights, she wound her way through the parking lot until she reached the spot she wanted —facing the side of the building, equidistant from the front and back entrances— and parked the car.

She looped Mac's ID around her neck and then pulled out a small stack of empty manila file folders and a pack of cigarettes.

Wallace tapped the box of Parliaments. "You know, the Surgeon General says smoking can cause low birth weight."

"I'm not so sure that's a deterrent," she muttered. She pulled off the cellophane wrapper, tossed a few cigarettes from the window, and slipped a lighter into her jacket pocket. "I'm outside on a smoke break."

"And where do I fit in this plan of yours?"

"You'll see." Veronica took out her cell, accessed Safari and pulled up the photo of Anthony Calabrese she'd bookmarked. "While I'm inside, if anyone who looks like this comes near the building- call me and then call 911." She passed the phone to him. Memories of Jake Kane following her into Porcellian Security were not that distant and she never went on these excursions without backup. Usually it was her dad, but he didn't have the added skills she needed tonight.

Wallace texted himself the picture and returned her phone.

She changed the setting for the interior lights, opened her door and pointed at the basketball. "Game time, LeBron."

Wallace grabbed the ball and followed her as she edged along the lot toward the rear entrance. The landscaping between the two buildings was ornamental and not meant to block egress, but the shale rock and the slight incline required them to carefully pick their way through. Veronica skirted the pool of light. Keeping them out of range of the security cameras, she maneuvered them as close to the door as they could get. "I want you to hit the security camera and tilt it off its axis."

Without batting an eye, he took a step back and started dribbling the ball. "No problem." Veronica didn't know if his easy assent was about the challenge of making the shot or if he was just used to her wacky ideas. _Both_, she decided.

The camera was an older model with a swivel base that allowed it to be positioned in any direction and it was currently angled toward the door. When Clarence added the new cameras to the system, he'd neglected to update this one- incorrectly assuming that someone would be caught on film long before they reached the door. _Obviously he doesn't have a best friend with an incredible jump shot_.

It was a beautiful throw. The ball sailed through the air in a perfect arc, glancing off the camera and repositioning the lens so it was now filming the nether regions of the parking lot and some of the night sky.

"Nothing, but net," Wallace boasted.

Veronica tugged at his arm and pointed back toward the car. As he disappeared into the darkness, she ambled to the door making sure to stay out of the sight-lines of the other cameras. Leaning against the building, she lit a cigarette and waited. Duncan may have over-exaggerated the roving patrols, but someone would definitely come to check out the broken camera. She scanned the parking lot making sure Wallace was undetectable and locating the basketball.

It didn't take long for a security guard to round the corner of the building. "What the hell?" His eyes were focused on the bent camera and not on Veronica.

"Kids, I think." With the cigarette, she gestured toward the basketball and his head swiveled in that direction. She flicked away the Parliament. "Well, back to work." Sliding Mac's ID through the access lock, she mentally crossed her fingers and hoped it worked. The lock disengaged with a loud snick and Veronica pulled open the door.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she inwardly groaned. _Crap_. "There's no smoking back here."

Without turning around, she apologized: "I know, I'm sorry; it won't happen again." He removed his hand and Veronica hustled through the door. "Have a nice night," she called over her shoulder.

She let the door close on his disgruntled, "Yeah right."

The grade of the land beneath Kane Software elevated the building high enough to create space for a sub-basement, which is where she found herself. It was one large room with rows of metal utility shelves stocked with office supplies, cleaning products, and old office equipment. _A metaphorical junk drawer_. With a jolt, she remembered the last time she was down here- the start of her sophomore year at Neptune High. Lilly was filching school supplies and encouraging her to do the same. _'It's not stealing Veronica- these riches are all mine.' _Her sarcasm had been palatable.

Shaking off the memory, Veronica found the short staircase tucked in the corner and headed up to the first floor. The door at the top of the landing opened behind and to the side of the main reception area. Head bent and face angled away from the camera, she flipped open one of the file folders and pretended to read as she approached the stairs that would take her to the second floor and Duncan's office.

Her meeting outside with the security guard was designed to make her invisible. Hopefully, before attempting to fix the security camera, the guard radioed in a situation report: _employee on unauthorized smoke break thinks it was some pesky kids_. And with that innocuous cover story, her presence in the building was established and she should be able to move throughout the building unimpeded. _Suck it, Weidman_.

During her several trips to Kane Software over the past week, she'd scouted the interior dome cameras. She noted their locations in reception and the main hallways of the first floor and also their conspicuous absence from outside the executive offices. Charles Shepherd's door was locked. She considered picking it with one of her hair pins and changed her mind. What she needed was a connection between one of the Kane employees and Stewart Manning and she'd already ruled out Charles.

The rumor about Microtech and their development of a bendable phone is what sparked the entire idea of 'espionage' in the first place; _well that, and the missing Smartpaper drawing_. According to Duncan, he'd heard the rumor from either Jim or Nigel and both had access to the Smartpaper lab.

Thankfully, Duncan's office door was just closed and not locked. She ducked inside and settled herself behind his desk of wood, glass and steel. There were no drawers to search in the impractical desk —_heaven forbid they ruin the lines of the fluid design_— but it made a perfect backdrop for her picture. She snapped a photo of herself with the unique desk and emailed it to Clarence at Porcellian.

_Jim or Nigel_. Smartpaper was originally Jim Soong's idea and he was the head engineer on the project. Recent transplant from Hong Kong and new guy at Kane Software, it was hard to see how he would connect to Stewart Manning, but maybe he resented Duncan? Maybe Stewart promised him a bigger piece of the Kane pie to turn traitor? It was possible, but her money was on Nigel. There was something about his attitude that made her Spidey-sense tingle.

Three lateral filing cabinets in the same exotic wood as the desk lined the wall beneath the windows- six drawers in total. She started with one on her far left. The first two drawers contained copies of the annual reports with the corporate financial statements for the past ten years. They were thicker than the one she went over, but relatively the same with profit and loss statements and letters to shareholders.

The files in the next drawer were corporate tax returns, payroll reports, and minutes from board meetings. Stifling a sigh of frustration, she continued her search. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that this was a waste of her time. Like Wallace and the basketball challenge she'd wanted to break into the building just to prove she could. There was going to be no paper trail linking Nigel to Stewart. What she should be doing is following them and having Mac… _dammit_. Veronica slammed the drawer. She missed Mac. Not just because she could run phone records —_although that would be extremely helpful_— but because she wanted her friend.

Veronica moved to the bottom drawer: corporate policies, employee handbook, liability insurance, worker's compensation policy. The word _stock_ caught her interest and she pulled out the file for the employee stock purchase plan. Nigel's slim background check said he was a participant in the ESPP. Spreading the file across Duncan's desk, she rifled through the pages for a list of employees.

There was a comprehensive treatise on how the plan worked. Maximum contribution of ten percent of your salary calculated on the gross, but unlike a 401k, you actually purchased the stock with after-tax dollars. It then went on to describe "purchase periods" and how the employee's fifteen percent discount was applied against the lowest cost of the stock during that purchase period.

Duncan had written notes in the margins of the report and there were sample calculations showing how the employees made money from the program. This must be part of his, _'I've taken over, but there's a lot to learn'_ homework. She found the list of employees and confirmed Nigel contributed the maximum amount of ten percent. It also listed _E. Clark_ as his designated beneficiary. _Too bad he didn't leave it all to Stewart Manning_.

She scooped up the file and put it away. It wasn't like Nigel was orchestrating a hostile takeover from within. Even with his max contribution, he'd never accumulate enough stock to even make a _dent_ in the amount of outstanding shares.

Veronica stared at the final two drawers. She'd decided to search Duncan's office because she was hoping he could provide the link —he knew Stewart and he knew Nigel— but there was simply nothing here. She considered her options as she pulled open the next drawer: office supplies and Duncan's personal calendar.

She absentmindedly flipped through the pages of his calendar. When helping Amber with her laptop, Nigel chose to work in the R&amp;D lab. She'd assumed the computer workstations around the room served as the desks for that department, but maybe she was wrong? _Did Nigel have his own office or cubicle?_

Duncan had written, _lunch with Veronica_, in the square for tomorrow. _Not bloody likely_. She briefly wondered how thin the line was between optimistic and delusional. Celeste's rescheduled meet-and-greet was underneath the wished for lunch date and Sunday was blocked off with the word _moving_.

Veronica turned the page to next week. He'd earmarked Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday as personal days —_probably to finish the move_— but under personal on Monday morning he'd noted: _eight a.m. Neptune Christian Academy_. Veronica frowned. _Was he planning to enroll _Laurel_ there? _She stared at the entry as the pieces came together. Snapping the book closed, she returned it to the drawer. _Was Duncan really that stupid or has he been playing me all along?_


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Logan did not share her outrage. After telling him what she'd found at Kane Software, he took the _'Duncan's clueless'_ side of the argument. Last night, his logical _'you never actually told him you were looking for an accomplice'_ was convincing enough to make her stop thinking about it and go to sleep, but today she was back to doubting how anyone could be _that_ blind.

"Taw Mama." Wyatt was kneeling in the grass waiting for her.

"Right, sorry." Veronica picked up the blue toy saw and pretended to cut the end of the rubber cap before placing it in the hole for Wyatt to hit.

They'd spent the morning watching Logan construct the frame for the ten tons of rubber mulch and Wyatt kept trying to "help" him. Stopping her from playing with the metal stakes, keeping her fingers away from the saw, and convincing her that rubber mulch —despite its colorful mix— did _not_ taste good was more work than actually building the border. Halfway through the frame assembly, Veronica needed a nap more than the baby did and was relieved when Logan halted the construction to get ready for his playdate with the trophy wife.

Of course, one naptime later and Wy wanted to return to the building project with or without Daddy. Her green and silver plastic hammer was clutched tightly in both hands as she banged on the frame.

"Grandpa and Nana Dot are coming over to play with you tonight."

Wyatt paused in her hammering and tilted her head making the little yellow hardhat slip sideways. "Puppy?"

Veronica righted the hat. "Yes, Partner too."

"Now?" Her eyes darted toward the house.

"In a little bit."

The baby nodded and the hat slid over her eyes. Pushing back the brim, Wyatt wiped her forearm across her brow in an exact imitation of Logan from earlier and Veronica grinned at her cute construction worker.

She "sawed" off the next plug and stuck it in the hole for Wyatt to hammer. "Maybe we should tighten it with your screwdriver?"

"Okay." She watched Veronica take the purple screwdriver from the tool box and then snatched it from her fingers. "Me do."

"It's Mommy's turn; remember we have to share our toys?" Reluctantly, Wyatt returned the screwdriver and Veronica pretended to screw the rubber stopper into place. "Now it's your turn."

Wy gave the screwdriver a few twists, tossed it in the grass, and went back to her hammer. Clearly banging on the rubber beam was more fun. _Louder too_. She stopped and held out the hammer. "Mama turn."

She took the toy, gave the beam a good whack, and handed it back. "Thanks for sharing with me." Leaning forward, Veronica tipped up the baby's hardhat and kissed her nose before she could start hammering again. She picked up another rubber stopper. "Uh-oh it looks like this hole is too tiny. Should we drill it and make it bigger?"

"Yes!" Wyatt's enthusiasm for drilling quickly waned. She chewed her fingertip and frowned at the toolbox.

Immediately understanding the problem, Veronica took the two remaining tools and held them in her palms. "The wrench is blue and the drill is orange."

Wyatt popped her finger from her mouth and smiled. She grabbed the drill with both hands and pushed the trigger. The _rzzz_ sound effect made her eyes widen in surprise and then she laughed. She hit the button again and again, laughing each time. "Me 'rill!" Standing, she moved from hole to hole drilling each of them to: "Make big."

Veronica used her phone to take some video so Logan could see how much Wyatt loved the early birthday present and then checked the time. His playdate was taking longer than expected. If they wanted to eat dinner before leaving for Celeste's party she'd need to get the grill ready without him. Keeping an eye on Wyatt, she got the charcoal, smoker tray, and hickory chips from the shed.

Somewhere between Veronica filling the smoker tray with wood and arranging the charcoal pyramid, Wyatt lost interest in drilling and was inching her way toward the barbecue. She stopped a few feet away and pointed at the Weber. "Hot?"

"Very hot."

The baby looked down at her hands. "No touch?"

"That's right- no touching." With a fireplace match, she lit the charcoal and then scooped up Wyatt and carried her into the house. It didn't matter how many times they told her she couldn't touch the grill, the barbecue was too tempting for her. Veronica closed and locked the screen door behind them before putting her down. "Do you want to help me shuck corn?"

Pressing her palms and face against the screen, she stared at the fire. "No."

Leaving her to watch the grill, Veronica got the corn from the fridge put them on a plate and popped them into the microwave. When the timer sounded, she cut the end off the cob, squeezed the top of the ear and shook the corn free from its husks.

A shouted, "Gwanpa" was closely followed by a cry of, "Puppy," and then the rattling of the door.

"Easy," Keith chuckled. "You're going to go right through the screen."

Veronica didn't know if the admonishment was for Partner or Wyatt, but if she had to place a bet she'd put her money on the baby. Tossing the chaff in the garbage, she went to unlock the door.

Wyatt was bouncing on the balls of her feet and out on the deck, Partner was wagging his tail and softly chuffing- each of them eager to get to the other. "Mama!"

"I'm right here." She started to slide back the screen, but it wasn't fast enough for Partner. He pushed his nose through the crack and licked Wyatt's face. "Good training job you're doing, Pops."

"He just finds her as irresistible as the rest of us do." The dog bounded into the house and straight for Wyatt. She rushed him and they landed on the floor together in a tangle of limbs and fur and paws. The baby squeezed him in a big hug and he slobbered her with giggle-inducing kisses.

"Where's Dottie?"

"We took separate cars –she wouldn't trust Partner to be alone in the backseat with our dessert." He passed her a legal-sized, expansion file folder. "Norris dropped that off for you."

"Did he get the surveillance video from the bank?"

He nodded. "The CD is in there."

"Have you watched it yet?"

Keith's answer was interrupted by Logan's —"Whoa"— as both toddler and dog flew at him. He squatted to catch Wyatt who wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a loud kiss. "Now that's a greeting." He glanced at Veronica. "Why don't you ever throw yourself in my arms when I come home?"

"Because I'm not a television housewife from the Fifties."

Logan ducked his head to hide a grin and scratched behind Partner's ears. The dog dropped to the floor and rolled on his back exposing his belly for more affection. Again Logan glanced at Veronica. "If I scratched you—"

"Don't even," she warned.

This time he didn't try to hide his smile. "Remember that Bean, no swooning over a man."

Wy nodded. "No 'woon."

"Well, let's not be too hasty," Veronica cautioned. Logan arched a quizzical eyebrow and she batted her eyes at him. "After all, Chris Hemsworth _is_ dreamy."

With a slight head shake, he stood with Wyatt still in his arms. Partner scrambled to his feet, tagging along behind them as Logan crossed the room and kissed Veronica's cheek. "Dreamy huh?"

"Mmm-hmm." Partner whined and nudged Logan's thigh with his nose. "I think he wants you to put Wyatt down."

A furiously wagging tail and a soft plaintive bark said the dog agreed with Veronica's assessment. "What do you think Bean? Do you want to get down and play with the puppy?"

It was a silly question and they all knew it. He put her on the floor without waiting for an answer just as the doorbell rang. Veronica shoved the red rope file at Logan's middle as she started for the front hall. "That will be Dottie with dessert."

"For dessert she'll swoon," he muttered and Keith chuckled at the remark.

"And for Chris Hemsworth," she tossed over her shoulder. She opened the door for Dottie who was carrying a large glass-covered tray of cream puffs drizzled with chocolate sauce in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. Veronica frowned at the white bag covered with familiar backward R's in bold, primary colors. "What did you do?"

"Brought baked goods as a distraction." Dottie held out the tray of dessert and hid the bag behind her leg.

"It didn't work," she said as she took the cream puffs.

"We'll talk again after you eat one. And this isn't from me" —reaching in the bag she pulled out a small Padres ball cap— "Your father felt Wyatt needed one for _opening day, baby_." Her impersonation of Keith was perfection and Veronica laughed.

The two women entered the living room to find it empty. They followed the sound of Wyatt's laughter out to the yard. Logan had unlocked the pool cover and was tossing a tennis ball into the water for Partner to retrieve. Each time the dog jumped into the deep end with a splash, Wy clapped. Ball in mouth, the dog raced to the baby and shook his body sending water flying from his fur —a puppy sprinkler system.

Keith was at the grill spreading the charcoal. "What am I cooking?"

"Shish kebobs and corn and a turkey frank for Wyatt."

Holding his hand flat above the charcoal, he counted the seconds to test the heat. "Grill's ready."

Veronica carried the cream puffs to the kitchen; stealing one from the tray before putting them in the fridge. Biting into the flaky shell, she savored the sweet vanilla center and rich chocolate sauce. _Dessert before dinner- adulthood has its privileges_. She stuck a roll of tinfoil under her arm, picked up the plates of food and carried them out to her dad.

Dottie had joined Logan near the pool and they were engaged in a conversation that he clearly did not want to be having. Veronica recognized the signs: the tight-lipped expression, the distant stare, and the absentminded bouncing of the tennis ball on the slate-colored pavers.

"Do you know what that's all about?"

Keith followed her gaze to the pool and shook his head. "No idea." He returned his attention to the grill and turned the skewers. With his back to her she couldn't tell if he was bluffing or if he really didn't know. But his rapid change of subject made her suspicious. "I watched the surveillance video."

"Anything?" She wrapped the ears of corn in foil and lined them up on the teak grill table.

"The car was there for a while, but the camera angle only gave us a glimpse of the fender and then a few seconds of footage as it comes down the street. I printed some stills to show Eli and, with the paint analysis, his best guess was a Mercury Cougar- late sixties, early seventies."

_Another classic car._ "No view of the driver?"

He shook his head. "But it might not be Anthony Calabrese."

"Why not?"

"The FBI thinks he's dead." Keith added the corn to the barbecue. "They tracked his movements to California and—"

"So he _was_ out here." It lent credibility to Veronica's theory that Lisa moved here to find her brother's killer. _She was hunting for Anthony Calabrese_.

"They think he made contact with his former sister-in-law —Vinnie's widow— and she helped him cross the border into Mexico."

"That doesn't make any sense. The Sinaloa cartel wanted to _kill_ him; why would he run straight to them?" The cartel was known as 'Mexico's most powerful organized crime group.' _Why flee south to Mexico and not north to Canada? _

"They have video of him walking across the border."

Veronica shook her head. "Remember that family that went missing? They had video of them crossing the border too and then they found their bodies up in Victorville."

"Honey, I'm just telling you what Agent Townsend told me." He removed the shish kebobs and stacked them on the corn plate with the hotdog for Wyatt.

"Fine, but that still doesn't mean he's dead."

"They found a body in Chihuahua. He was beheaded" —Keith winced— "And his hands and feet were missing, which made identification difficult, but they're confident it was Anthony Calabrese."

Dottie caught the tail-end of their conversation as she joined them on the deck and she grimaced. "I can't believe you two are talking about beheadings and missing extremities right before we're going to eat."

"In my defense, I left out the worst part." Keith's quick glance at the glowing coals was enough for Veronica to figure out what he meant by _'the worst part,'_ but thankfully Dottie had already turned toward the house.

"Are we going to eat inside or out here?"

"Ow'side!" Was Wyatt's vote as she clambered onto the deck followed by Logan and a still wet Partner. She headed straight for the barbecue.

Logan grabbed her by the middle and hoisted her onto his shoulders. "Inside."

"Good idea," Veronica concurred.

They carried the food into the house and ate in the kitchen; all conversation of the missing and presumed dead Anthony Calabrese suspended during the meal. But that didn't stop Veronica from thinking about him. Head, hands, and feet gone and his body burned meant the identification could have been wrong. It also meant she was no longer in the mood for barbecued meat. She ate her salad and corn and then excused herself to start getting ready for Celeste's party.

Logan frowned at her mostly untouched plate prompting her to grab an apple from the bowl on the counter. She brandished it in front of him and took a large, exaggerated bite on her way from the room.

Veronica took her time in the shower —_what's the point of a wedding present, if you're not going to enjoy it_— and an equally long time with her makeup and hair. Parting it to the side, she created a loose four-strand braid, which she twisted and secured at the nape of her neck. Then with a curling iron, she styled the face-framing strands into gentle waves.

If —and it was a big if to her— Anthony was dead, then she was out of suspects in the hit and run case. There was Stewart and Nigel, but their connection to each other was so obvious, killing Lisa and Mac wouldn't keep it a secret. _Stupid Duncan_. From four theories, a myriad of motives, and an entire list of suspects, she was left with nothing. _Hello, square one_. The question that kept nagging her was _why?_ Why would Anthony run to Mexico, the heart of the Sinaloa's operation?

When she came out of the bathroom, Logan was standing in the middle of their bedroom wearing nothing but a white towel slung around his waist. "Uh, I think the party is a little more formal than that."

He pouted, "But I have the perfect shoes to go with this."

"Ugh, shoes." She sat on the edge of the bed. One of the benefits of having a tall husband was being able to wear heels. The four-inch, strappy nude sandals she'd planned to wear tonight were probably not a good idea. She directed a baleful stare at her knee.

His white towel landed next to her and her usual complaint about wet towels on the bed went unvoiced because she was too busy checking out the other benefits of her husband. "You didn't have to shower in the guest room."

"I thought you actually wanted to go to this party." He leaned over to kiss her bare shoulder. "If I'd joined you in the shower, we'd still be in there."

Disappearing into the walk-in closet he returned carrying a garment bag, a white dress shirt, and a pair of expensive looking black wingtips. Veronica watched him dress in the charcoal grey made-to-measure Tom Ford suit. "Really throwing yourself into the role of rich investor, huh?"

"No one's even going to notice me with you in that dress." He finished threading the black alligator belt through his pants and then picked up his white gold Patek Philippe watch with a matching black alligator band. "I might have gotten some attention if you let me go with the towel, but…" He shrugged.

Rolling her eyes, Veronica headed for the closet in search of shoes. She cast a longing look at the sexy heels sitting on the floor beneath her dress before turning to the shoe organizer. The best substitute she could find was a pair of beige lace-up ballet flats. Carrying them out of the closet, she wasn't sure if she was back in their bedroom or in the middle of a photoshoot for GQ magazine.

Logan was leaning on the dresser, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his face in profile. One hand was resting on the dresser's surface and the other was buried in his hair. The top few buttons of the white dress shirt were undone and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. This was him not even trying. She shook her head. _No one's going to notice him, my ass_.

She tossed the shoes on the bed. "How did it go with trophy wife?"

"You know, a little part of me misses jealous Veronica- she was very cute."

"I'm sure she's still around here somewhere." She went back to the closet for her dress. "Probably packed away with my piano wire and my gun."

"There she is." He smiled. "It went fine —she loved the plant, put it in her living room— plus I managed to install cameras in both bathrooms and her bedroom. It only got a little tricky when it was time to leave."

"Tricky how?" She shimmied her way into the dress and sat on the bed to put on her shoes. Holding out a foot, she wiggled it at him. "Some help?"

He knelt on the floor, wrapped the laces around her calves, and tied them in bows. "When I was coming back from the bathroom, I heard her calling a friend to pick up her son. Showing up without Wyatt made her think it was a different sort of playdate."

"How did you get out of it?"

"Who says I did," he teased.

"Gun. Piano wire."

"Right." As he stood, he leaned over and kissed her nose. "I pretended to get a text from you- apparently you changed your mind about me taking Wyatt for the day. Then I confessed that I was still in love with you and hoping we'd reconcile."

"Was she crushed?" Veronica slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

"Completely devastated."

"You're pretty good at this subterfuge thing."

"Learned from the best." His fingers traced a lazy path down her spine and before they could move any lower she stepped back.

"Did we really manage to get ready for this party without Wyatt needing us for something?" By now, she normally would have called for at least one —and probably both— of them several times. Or else she would've been in here with them wanting to 'get fancy' too- asking for makeup, doing her hair, and trying on Veronica's shoes.

"She's busy eating cream puffs."

"_Puffs_ plural? As in, more than one?"

He smirked. "Afraid there'll be none left for you?"

"No, I'm afraid she'll be on a sugar high and still awake when we get home." She ran her hand up his chest and gave him a bawdy wink "And I have plans for you later."

"Well, when you put it that way." Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the door.

They didn't make it to the kitchen. Splashing and chattering from the bathroom alerted them to the whereabouts of Wyatt. "Puppy too?"

"Partner will get his own bath tomorrow." Dottie's weary tone suggested this wasn't the first time Wy asked the question.

"Me share."

"It's nice you want to share, but little girls and puppies don't take baths together."

There was a moment of silence while the baby contemplated this answer. "Puppy pool an' me pool."

"Argumentative like her mommy," Logan whispered with a grin.

Veronica stuck her tongue out at him and walked into the bathroom to save Dottie from an endless barrage of puppy bath questions. Wyatt's lips were pursed and her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to work out why swimming pools and bathtubs were different. "Hey, sweet pea."

She tipped her bubble covered head back and smiled. "Mama fancy!"

"Daddy and I are going—"

"Me go bye-bye." She stood and Dottie quickly put out her hands to stop her from slipping.

Logan knelt next to the tub and Veronica cringed as Wyatt's wet hands grabbed his dress shirt. "You need to stay here with Grandpa and Nana Dot." Scooping up a handful of bubbles, he blew them at her while coaxing her back into the water. "Partner would miss you."

Veronica leaned over the tub to kiss her forehead. "He wants to go night-night with you and listen to Grandpa read stories."

The baby stared at her and then looked to Logan with what he called her _'Veronica-expression_' —head titled and wary— as if they were trying to trick her. "Grandpa's going to read you and Partner stories in your bed," he confirmed.

"Okay." Wyatt turned back to her boats, dismissing them.

They bade their goodbyes to Dottie with a promise to not be too late and then told Keith it was okay to let Partner sleep on the bed with Wyatt. Veronica paused on her way from the house. "While we're gone, can you look into Anthony and Vinnie Calabrese? See if they had any connection to someone in Mexico? Family maybe? Or maybe they were working for a rival cartel and—"

"Go to your party, Veronica."

She closed the door, turned, and bumped right into Logan. He was watching her with a slight smile —the one that was equal parts amusement and wonder. "Do you ever give your brain a rest?"

"On Tuesdays… during a full moon… in a leap year." Veronica took his hand. "Now let's get this date night started."

"No, sorry." He remained immobilized on the porch. "This does _not_ count as our date night- _this_ is a work thing."

"But I'm all fancy and we're together without Wyatt _and_" —she smiled— "Rumor has it that you're going to get lucky tonight. So… date night."

Shaking his head, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, escorted her to the car, and held open her door. Once she was settled, he leaned in and kissed her. "Is it only a rumor or am I really being invited inside tonight?" His hand skimmed up her thigh and disappeared under her dress making the double entendre clear and causing her to flush.

"I'm _definitely_ having my way with you."

"Good to know." Removing his hand, he shut her door, circled around the car and climbed behind the wheel. "Do you have an address because I don't think _hell_ is a point of interest in the GPS?"

She dug out the post-it she'd transferred to her clutch and handed it to him. "What were you and Dottie talking about by the pool?"

He glanced at the dashboard clock. "Wow, you restrained yourself for almost three whole hours, I'm impressed."

"You're also a jackass."

"Yes, but I'm your jackass." He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "She wanted to know if I've made up my mind about the job."

"Say what now? A job?"

"You know, where you perform services in exchange for the thing they call a paycheck." Turning his head, he gauged her reaction and sighed at her stony countenance. "It's for a defense contractor working on next-generation drones for the Navy; they want to switch over to unmanned planes and do away with fighter jets."

"That's scary." It was a double-edged sword for sure. The potential for saving pilot lives made a compelling argument, but how many more wars would be waged when you could fight them from the comfort of your living room? Veronica was torn. "And what would you be doing for them?"

"Justifying years of playing video games." He turned on Bird Rock Avenue, a straight shot to the ocean. "I just don't know if now is the right time for me to start working."

She frowned. _Apparently Wyatt isn't the only one with separation anxiety_. "Do you want to do it?"

"It means I get to fly," he answered without hesitation.

"Then you should take the job. Wyatt will be fine. You'll be home every night and on weekends and she loves spending time with Dot. Provided she's still willing to be our daycare?"

Before his last deployment and before learning that Veronica was going to stay home, Dottie had offered to watch Wyatt so they wouldn't have to put her in a day care program.

"She is." Another glance at her. "I'll think about it, okay?"

She murmured an _mmm-hmm_ in assent. There was no point pushing the issue; it was his decision to make. But the eagerness of his _'I get to fly'_ response said he wanted the job.

Logan turned onto Duncan's street. It was a semicircle road; gently bending toward the water, its curve resembled a dolphin leaping from the ocean, hence its name- Dolphin Place. The only part of the house visible from the street was a rust-colored metal garage and a narrow walkway leading to a smoked glass door set in concrete. An architectural feature of concrete, steel, and teak jutted from the top of the house and covered the walkway. Its shape reminded Veronica of the prow of a ship. Recessed lights in the teak underside illuminated the path to the front door.

A valet station was set up in front of the garage door. Logan started to drive past the two uniformed parking attendants and then, with a brief look at her knee, he applied the brakes. Putting the car in park, he got out and started toward her door, but the valet reached her first. Veronica ignored his outstretched hand and exited the car on her own.

"Ronnie!" Dick called as he jogged up the street to them.

"You're right this place is hell," Veronica muttered. When Dick reached them, she said: "You have _got_ to stop stalking Logan. You had your chance with him and you lost."

Dick grinned. "It's not him, Ronnie; you know you're the one I want."

"Yuck." Veronica frowned. "Why are you here? Did something happen to Mac? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Ryan says she's more alert today —keeping her eyes open longer— and she was able to breathe on her own without the ventilator."

"Can we see her?"

Dick shook his head. "Not yet; maybe tomorrow or Monday? She's only awake for very short periods and when she is, she's confused and agitated."

While not obvious to Dick, her worry was easily read by Logan. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "But that's normal, right?"

"Yeah, the doctors are pretty happy with her progress and her levels look good."

Veronica relaxed. "So why are you here? Investing in Kane Software?" In a pair of well-worn black jeans, a matching black tee shirt, and a pair of sneakers, he certainly wasn't dressed for the party.

"Hell no, Duncan asked me to cater."

"And you said yes?" Logan seemed a little put out by this turn of events.

"I wasn't going to, but he said Ronnie needed this party for her invest—"

Clamping a hand over his mouth to keep him from finishing, Veronica checked out the surrounds. Thankfully there was nobody in earshot. The one parking attendant was still off with their car and the other was sneaking a cigarette across the street. "We're here as _investors_."

"Got it- sorry."

She couldn't believe Duncan told him the reason for the party. She'd _specifically_ told him the plan needed to stay between the three of them. _Who else did he tell?_ _And why am I surprised that he can't be trusted?_ "Catering, huh? Does that mean there are artichoke frizzles inside?"

Logan laughed at her sudden eagerness. "The food from Breakers is a little low-brow for a Celeste Kane extravaganza."

Dick nodded in agreement. "They're canapés from the Sans Souci menu."

Sans Souci was his fine dining restaurant in San Diego. Its sister restaurant in New York, Enjouée, shared the same menu, but _it_ had a coveted three Michelin stars. "So nothing for me to eat then." She sighed. "I guess we'll just have to stop at Fatburger on our way home." Taking Logan's arm, she waved goodbye to Dick, and started inside.

"Not smart, Veronica." Logan shook his head. "Insulting Dick's food? Without him and his recipes, we'd probably starve to death."

She patted his arm. "You can make it up to him later; buy him something shiny."

As they reached the end of the portico, a pretty uniformed hostess opened the front door with a welcoming smile. Logan ducked his head and graced her with one of his patented flirty smiles.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"I have no idea—"

"What are you doing here," Celeste hissed. She blocked their path, preventing them from entering the house. "This is a private party."

"Duncan invited us." Veronica's news made Celeste's eye twitch.

And when Logan chimed in with— "We're going to buy some of his class B stock" —it looked like she was experiencing an apoplectic fit: her cheeks flamed and her mouth opened and closed without forming any words just a strangled, choking sound.

Veronica found it difficult to suppress a grin. "Excuse us."

Celeste made a rapid recovery and grabbed her arm- hard. _Like mother, like son_. "Don't think that because Duncan's back, you are going to worm your way back into his life."

"Let go of my wife- _now_," Logan commanded.

"That's right you two are _married_," she scoffed, but she released her hold on Veronica's arm. "Wedding vows didn't exactly keep your slut of a mother from sleeping with my husband, did they? The past is not going to repeat itself; do you hear me?"

Unaffected by the nasty diatribe, Veronica glanced over Celeste's shoulder into the large airy room. Those closest to them had stopped eating their canapés and were avidly watching the unfolding scene. "I think the entire party heard you."

Aghast, Celeste took a step back. She conjured up her fake socialite smile and turned toward her acceptable guests. Effortlessly, she moved through the room, stopping to mingle with each small group to put them at ease. But it didn't stop them from shooting covert stares in Veronica's direction. _Just like the halls of Neptune High_.

Logan stepped in front of her, blocking their view. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Don't worry, I'm a big girl."

"Maybe" —he stroked her cheek with his knuckles— "But you're my girl and I do worry."

"One day that's going to make your hair turn gray and fall out." She grinned. "Just ask my dad."

"Hey, you told me that was a myth."

"I lied. How else could I convince you to marry me? I know how you feel about your hair." She took his hand. "Now let's go eat; do you think Dick made those gougères we had at our wedding?" A fancy French cheese puff, they were choux pastry dough mixed with grated Gruyère and baked into little pillows of perfection.

What the house lacked in character at the entrance was more than made up for with its walls of glass and sweeping views of the Pacific. Veronica and Logan moved across the travertine tile toward the ocean vista. Pressing against the glass, she could see that they were actually on the top level of the house and the other two floors were cut into the bluff beneath them. The lower level opened to an outside flagstone patio and at its end —before you reached the waist-high glass wall and the cliff beyond— was a wide, linear gas firepit.

Waiters were circling through the room with trays of various champagne cocktails- bellinis, mimosas, Shanghai fizzes, and there was an open bar set up in the corner, but there was no food in sight. She frowned and rubbed her belly.

"Something wrong?"

"We're hungry."

"I guess now wouldn't be the time to remind you that this is what happens when you skip dinner?"

"And yet that's exactly what you're doing." Her eyes skimmed the room. The amount of people had thinned considerably since her altercation with Celeste and there were only a few stragglers remaining on this level of the house. And none were the person she wanted. "Let's move downstairs."

The theme of glass walls and open floor plan continued on both the middle floor and the bottom level as did the American walnut ceilings and recessed lighting. It was a beautiful house —an architectural showplace— but it was also cold and uninviting. _Celeste's personality as a building._ She couldn't imagine Laurel growing up here and feeling at home. Veronica said as much to Logan.

"It's going to make her really popular at Neptune High; it's a great party house."

"Maybe that's why the Mannings want her to go to Neptune Christian Academy," she groused. "Turn her into a Stepford child like," Veronica nodded toward the woman standing by the stainless-steel kitchen island.

Logan kissed her hand and released it. "Go do your thing tiny blonde one."

She was momentarily distracted by the scrumptious array of food and her growling stomach. Picking up a plate, Veronica started at the other end of the buffet and helped herself to pan-seared lamb lollipops seasoned with rosemary, garlic, and Dijon; sweet figs stuffed with ricotta cheese, drizzled with honey and topped with pistachios; miniature duck confit fried spring rolls perched on a clear shot glass of hoisin-plum dipping sauce; and a handful of the anticipated gougères.

Keeping her target in sight, Veronica moved down the line until she was standing next to the other woman. "Lizzie?" She touched her arm to get her attention.

Lizzie whirled around; the canapés on her plate sliding precipitously close to the edge. It took a minute for her cool blank stare to flood with recognition. "Veronica Mars."

"How are you?" She asked in an attempt at polite chitchat.

Lizzie's blonde hair was darker and longer now; it was pulled back from her face by a wide navy headband which matched her dress. The dress itself had a scalloped neckline with long sleeves and its hem fell past the knees. She wasn't wearing anything on her face except a scowl. "Are you here for Duncan?"

Since the answer was yes, but _definitely not_ in the way Lizzie meant, Veronica ignored the question. "Duncan told me you went to Hong Kong to visit him and Laurel; did you and your husband have a good time?"

When reading the background check on Nigel Clark, Veronica noted his graduation from Neptune Christian Academy, but it didn't register as important until she saw the same school in Duncan's calendar. Then the remembered image of Lizzie leaving Meg's hospital room —changed and demure in her modest school uniform— provided Veronica with the connection between Nigel and Stewart Manning: _E. Clark_, Elizabeth Clark née Lizzie Manning.

Her features softened as she talked about her niece. "Laurel's a great kid; Meg would be—" A sad smile flitted across her face. "I guess I should thank _you_ for that."

It wasn't a complete thaw in Lizzie's hostile attitude, but her frosty gaze was a few degrees warmer. Again, Veronica didn't know how to respond so she sidestepped. "When did you go? To Hong Kong, I mean."

"Last year sometime."

Veronica ate another cheese puff and casually asked: "Was that your only trip?"

"No, we went a few times; Nigel really seemed to love it there."

_I'll bet he did_. She doubted his passion for the island had anything to do with sightseeing. _If he met the Soongs on one of those trips, he could've been planning the faked espionage for a long time. _"Is he here? Your husband?"

"He's around." Lizzie put some space between them as her eyes darted around the room. Whether she was looking for her husband or an escape route, Veronica couldn't be sure, but she knew her time was short.

"He works for Kane Software, right?"

It drew her attention back to Veronica, but not in a good way. "Why all the questions?"

Logan chose then to join them; handing her a drink that resembled a sunset in a glass and kissing her temple. "Hey Lizzie."

"What's up Lo—"

"Elizabeth," Nigel corrected as he walked up behind his wife. "Her name is Elizabeth." The normally brazen and vivacious Lizzie shrank in the presence of her husband. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and she cowered beside him.

Veronica wasn't the only one who noticed the change in her demeanor. Logan's relaxed posture was gone; his body tense and on full alert. "_Lizzie_ and I are old friends from high school," he drawled. Logan was purposefully baiting the man.

"This is too sweet." If anyone noticed she hadn't taken a sip of her drink, they didn't comment. "Would you mind getting me some water?" Veronica put her hand on her husband's arm. "Logan? Water?"

He smiled at her, but his eyes said: _nope, not leaving you alone_. "Have mine." He swapped her fruity drink for his glass. "So how do you know Lizzie?"

Nigel bristled at the repeated use of the name. "I'm her husband." He may as well have said _'her owner'_ because the tone was the same. "Now if you'll excuse us." His grip on Lizzie's shoulder tightened as he shepherded her away from them.

Logan took a step in their direction like he intended to follow and Veronica moved in front of him, cutting off his progress. "That's the guy you met with at Kane Software?" he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at the retreating couple and then nodded. In light of Lizzie's appearance and her husband's domineering attitude, Nigel's disapproval of Amber's revealing outfit and his assurance that she was not Duncan's type suddenly made sense. He was expecting that Duncan's type be a "good girl" like Meg Manning. "A real charmer isn't he?"

"Do you think he hits her too?"

The addition of the word too didn't escape Veronica's notice. Logan was sensitive to abuse and he'd immediately recognized that relationship as abusive, even if it wasn't physical. "I don't know."

She felt bad for Lizzie. From rebelling against her father and his strict, extreme religious zealotry to marrying a man just like him. It was a glimpse of what Laurel's future could have been if Duncan didn't kidnap her and what it might still be if he didn't keep her away from the Mannings now. "I need to find Duncan."

"He's out on the lanai."

It was the same direction Nigel and Lizzie headed, which explained the dangerous gleam in Logan's eyes. "Maybe we should just go home and I'll call Duncan tomorrow," she murmured.

"Worried about me?"

Veronica shook her head. "Nope, I'm pretty sure you could take him."

The gentle tease took the edge off and he smiled. "Only pretty sure?"

"Okay, definitely sure, but not here."

Nodding, Logan gestured toward the patio. "Lead the way."

It was easy enough to find Duncan; he was holding court by the firepit, discussing the future of Kane Software and the cutting edge projects they were working on. He didn't mention Smartpaper by name, but he was doing a good job —with an assist from Charles Shepherd— of promoting the company to the potential investors. Leaving Logan on the outskirts of the gathering, Veronica worked her way through the people until she reached Duncan's side. "Do you have a minute?"

He was a little peeved with her interruption —pointedly looking at his audience and huffing an exaggerated sigh— but he made his excuses and followed her back to Logan. "What is it?"

"You're an idiot." His mouth gaped open, offended by her assessment. Not caring about his hurt feelings, she continued: "Stewart Manning's son-in-law works for you and you can't figure out who's behind the espionage?"

"Nigel?" Duncan frowned."You think he's responsible for stealing the Smartpaper drawing?"

"But not to sell it." Veronica connected the dots for him —Stewart Manning agreeing to Duncan's plea deal in exchange for super voting stock, faking the espionage to force Celeste into selling more shares to raise capital— and finally: "Then the Mannings could sue for custody of Laurel and control of her trust."

Duncan shook his head. "That was part of the deal- me keeping custody of Laurel."

"Under certain conditions, right? Like her attendance at Neptune Christian Academy," Veronica challenged. "God, Duncan- how long do you think it would take them to accuse you of violating the agreement or _worse_? Once they got custody of Laurel, they could take over Kane Software."

"So that's it then?" He held out his hands and shrugged. "There's no espionage? That's good news."

"You don't seem all that surprised." Veronica's eyes narrowed at his casual attitude. "Were you just using this case as an excuse?"

His brow furrowed. "I don't follow."

"To see me; to find a way back into my life?"

"Why would I need an excuse? You and me—"

"Just stop. There is no you and me. Whatever you think exists between us, you're wrong. I love _Logan_."

"Why are you acting like this?" Duncan stood there, looking almost amused by her statement.

The scene was suddenly too familiar for Veronica —her accusing Duncan and him turning it around on her— she wrapped her arms around herself and stumbled backward into the comforting warmth of Logan's chest. He wound his arm around her chest and pulled her closer, but it still wasn't enough. She had to get out of here. "Forget it, Duncan. Just fire Nigel, tell Celeste not to sell her stock, and keep Laurel the hell away from the Mannings."


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

_He punched Duncan. The satisfying crunch of bones was Duncan's jaw breaking right before he hit the floor_.

_That_ was how _Logan_ wanted last night to end. Veronica sighed. _It certainly would have made for a more dramatic exit. _

Instead, after telling Duncan to keep Laurel away from the Mannings, she turned to go and Duncan grabbed her arm. He tried explaining —that he didn't know who was behind the espionage and that the case wasn't a ploy— but Veronica wasn't paying attention to him; she was focused on her husband's face. It was the face he made when he was about to deck someone. And Veronica was tempted to let him or to do it herself. Until she saw Laurel standing on the threshold between the living room and terrace watching them.

Their less dramatic exit was Veronica tugging free from Duncan and putting a calming hand on Logan's chest with a nod toward Laurel. It took Logan a minute to readjust his thinking, but, in the end, there was no bloodshed, no satisfying crunch of bones. Only an angry husband who followed her from the pages of _Architectural Digest_ to their waiting car for a sullen ride home.

The sound of the bedroom door opening made her roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. Logan was in a black Under Armour tee shirt, a pair of shorts, and his running shoes and he was carrying a breakfast tray. "Just going or just coming back?" She asked as she sat up in anticipation of breakfast.

A pointed look at the alarm clock was her answer. He kissed her forehead and set the tray on the mattress next to her. Apple and cinnamon oatmeal with raisins, an egg white omelet with spinach and cheddar, whole wheat toast, a bowl of fresh fruit, and —as a concession to her normal dietary habits— a large glass of chocolate milk sat on the espresso-colored wood tray.

Veronica poked at the healthy-looking omelet. "Are you planning to eat with me?"

"I ate already." He kicked off the Asics sneakers and shed his tee shirt on his way to the bathroom. "Don't worry; there are jalapenos and hot sauce in it."

Ignoring the oatmeal, she slathered the toast with butter and cut the omelet to fit between the two slices of bread. "Where's Wyatt?"

"In the yard with your dad." The shower turned on eliminating further conversation and Veronica ate her breakfast sandwich.

She wasn't sure she believed Duncan's claim of not knowing who was behind the espionage and frankly she didn't care. The Mannings and the Kanes deserved each other. It was just too bad that first Meg and now Laurel were caught in the middle of the two scheming and destructive families.

With the espionage case resolved and Anthony Calabrese presumed dead, she was no closer to finding the person responsible for killing Lisa and injuring Mac then she was at the start.

While they were at Celeste's party, Keith did as she asked and ran a cursory search of both Anthony and Vinnie Calabrese. He found no obvious connections between them and Mexico or, between them and a rival cartel. He'd promised to call Agent Townsend again first thing Monday morning and ask for whatever information the FBI would be willing to share.

She picked at the bowl of fruit. If she removed all of the espionage details from the case what did she have left? Lisa was in witness protection after seeing her brother murdered and testifying at his killer's trial. _And_, she was on the hunt for the other half of the murdering duo- Anthony Calabrese. _With that and a Compass card, I can ride the bus_.

It all began almost eight years ago with the murder of Lisa's brother, Andres Salgado, and that's where Veronica would need to start. While her father was calling Agent Townsend, she would try to reach the elusive Scott Watson —assumed agent with the Marshall Service— and take a closer look at the Calabrese family.

But that was tomorrow. Today was family day. She frowned at a freshly-showered, towel-clad Logan as he exited the bathroom. "Why is my dad here?"

"Because Dick called and they're moving Mac out of ICU."

Veronica shoved the breakfast tray on the nightstand and scrambled from bed. "Why didn't you say so?"

Blocking the bathroom with his body, he stopped her hasty rush to the shower. "Because you can't see her yet. We'll go later this afternoon, but first… the zoo."

"Not the zoo _again_," she groaned. "Couldn't we go somewhere else? Like the dentist for a root canal or the proctologist to check for—"

"I think your dad has his heart set on the zoo."

"What _is_ it with that man and the zoo?"

Logan tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her nose. "It's made for family bonding."

"No, it exists to make money" —she shook her head in outrage— "Fifty bucks for adults and forty for kids for a _day_."

He grinned. "That's why we're members."

"Don't remind me," she groused as she ducked under his arm and made her way to the bathroom. If this _'family bonding'_ trip was meant to occupy her thoughts and keep her distracted while waiting to visit Mac, her husband and father had the wrong girl.

Veronica brushed her teeth in the shower to save time. The faster they got to the zoo, the faster they could leave the zoo, and she could be on her way to see to Mac. Dick said she was confused and agitated during the brief periods she was awake, but it was possible that she remembered something about the accident. Or, if not the accident itself, maybe she had an answer for why they were on that road in the first place. Did Lisa offer an explanation?

Veronica slowed down her thoughts. _Mac's getting out of the ICU_. That was enough. Mac was alive and she was awake and she was getting out of the ICU. Veronica would spend the day with her family at the zoo —lions and tiger and bears, oh my— and then she'd be able to see her friend. Stepping from the shower, she towel-dried her hair and dragged a hasty brush through it before pulling it into a fast ponytail.

"Daddy! Me go maminals!"

The excitement in Wyatt's voice was unmistakable and Veronica found herself grinning. No matter how many visits they made, their daughter was just as enthralled with the zoo animals as the first time they went.

"Oh? Are you going by yourself?"

Complete silence. Veronica opened the door a crack to peek in the bedroom. Fully dressed and sitting on the bed, Logan was tying his sneakers; Wyatt was staring at him, a confused frown on her face. A little less sure, she asked: "Me go maminals?"

"Yes" —he tapped her nose— "We are going to see the animals."

"Panda!" Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she spun around making her hot pink tutu twirl as she went racing from the room.

Veronica donned Logan's robe and exited the bathroom. "She's almost as excited as my dad."

"Not possible." He tugged at the sash of the robe pulling her closer to him, nimble fingers undoing the loose knot and pushing the robe open. "Want help getting dressed?"

"This is not helping."

Logan kissed her bare belly. "Okay, but you need to put a rush on it. You know how cranky your dad gets if we miss feeding the giraffes."

Veronica arched an eyebrow. "My dad?"

Feeding the Masai giraffes was _Logan's_ favorite part of the day. To be fair, it had more to do with watching Wyatt interact with the tall creatures —declaring _me do_ and holding out the biscuit only to run away when the giraffe angled its head down to eat— than feeding them himself. But still.

He gave her a solemn nod and said, "Yes, your dad," and then ruined the claim by smiling. Standing, he kissed the top of her head and started to leave. At the doorway, he paused and warned: "Chop, chop, the vouchers will be gone soon."

Indulging him, she rushed to get dressed and was ready in less than ten. She walked into the living room only to find it empty and quiet. The baby's diaper bag was missing from the front hall as was her purse. Pulling open the front door, she found her family waiting in the car; Logan was behind the wheel, Keith in the passenger seat, and Dottie was sitting on the hump in the backseat. Veronica set the alarm and went to join them.

"Little people in the back," Logan chirped as she walked past his open window. "See, this is why we need a mini—"

Veronica wedged herself in the backseat and slammed the door on the end of Logan's sentence. "I'm not stopping _you_ from driving a minivan, Mr. Mom."

By the time they reached the zoo, there were still plenty of giraffe-feeding vouchers available for purchase at the front gate. While Logan was buying one for each of them, Dottie took a picture of Wyatt and Keith in front of the large elephant topiaries standing sentinel at the entrance. He put her on his shoulders so she could touch the trunk. Wyatt patted the elephant's leafy face. "Dumbo cry."

Keith tilted his head back to see her. "Why was Dumbo crying?"

"Sad mama bye-bye." Her bottom lip quivered and Veronica silently groaned. _No more elephants on this trip_. Fortunately, sad Dumbo was forgotten about when they got inside the gates and she raced for the flamingos. "Do 'mingo Daddy."

The two of them took turns standing on one foot in imitation of the pink birds and then they quacked at the ducks floating in the pond. Grandpa and Nana Dot joined in the quacking and Veronica went to get soft serve ice cream in waffle cones from The San Diego Zoo Sandwich Company.

"I let you out of my sight for two minutes and this is what happens." Logan waved at the cones.

"At least this time, I bought you one." She handed him a vanilla cone.

"But the question is will I actually get to eat it?"

"Not with that attitude." She gave Keith and Dottie their ice cream and then leaned over to look at Wyatt. "Okay sweet pea, which one do you want- chocolate or strawberry?"

Wyatt stared at the two cones like it was an impossible choice and gnawed on her fingertip. Veronica could certainly sympathize with the dilemma. "Pink _an'_ b'own."

_Why not?_ She ate some of the strawberry to make room, handed it to the baby, and then broke off a piece of waffle cone to use as a scoop, transferring a chunk of chocolate onto Wyatt's ice cream. "Better?" Her head bobbed up and down and Veronica brushed back her bangs to kiss her forehead. "We Echolls women take our ice cream very seriously, don't we sweet pea?"

"Don't I know it," Logan muttered.

Veronica scrunched her nose at him. "Who's ready to see the… monkeys?"

"Me!" Wyatt raced toward the trail and then stopped short next to Logan in order to take another bite of her ice cream and Veronica chuckled. _Ice cream was _very_ serious business_.

Logan took the lead and Wyatt's hand as they followed the monkey trail through Lost Canyon on their way to see the pandas. In the middle of the walk, the baby made him take her cone so she could pretend to be a chimp, swinging her arms and scratching her side.

Veronica lagged behind watching Logan make grunting noises as he did his own monkey impressions for their daughter. Keith fell back to walk with her. "Remember when you used to love the zoo like that?"

"Do you mean Wyatt… or Logan?"

Her dad chuckled. "I don't think it's the zoo he loves."

Returning her gaze to Logan and Wyatt, she watched him pick her up and share his ice cream. His head was bent close to hers with a soft, tender smile on his face as Wyatt tasted his vanilla, then her strawberry, and went back to his cone. _Definitely not the zoo he loves_. "Thanks for coming today and for watching Wyatt later."

Keith nodded. He opened his mouth to say something then seemed to reconsider. They continued a few more paces and he finally said: "Be gentle with Mac today, kiddo. She's not going to be ready for a lot of questions and she's going to get tired very fast."

Veronica could tell he was remembering his own recovery. She hugged his waist and briefly rested her head against his arm. "I will." Finishing off her ice cream cone, she wiped her fingers on her jeans. "Do you think she'll remember any of the accident?"

"Maybe not today." He frowned. "But eventually she might."

_Do you?_ They'd talked about his accident —the one that killed Sachs— but only the details of his conversation with Jerry regarding the corruption in the Sheriff's Department. The actual crash was a subject he avoided, but maybe only because he couldn't remember it. She came so close to losing him that night. The fear in that moment very much like the night she saw Woody's plane explode.

Her gaze landed on Logan and Wyatt. "Do you think I'm wrong for investigating Mac's accident?"

"Veronica, if it was up to me, you'd still be in New York practicing law at Truman Mann." He squeezed her shoulder. "But then I wouldn't have my beautiful granddaughter or my son-in-law or Dottie. Sometimes you do know better than your old man."

"Can I get that on tape?"

"Sorry, one time offer." Keith gave her the end of his ice cream cone, which she happily accepted. He kissed her temple and nudged her forward. "Go join your family and give me a little alone time with my date."

She caught up to Logan and Wyatt at the panda enclosure. He was asking her what pandas eat. "Ice cream!"

"No, that's what Wyatts eat" —he draped an arm around Veronica's shoulder— "And mommies. Pandas eat bamboo." Logan pointed to the bamboo trees.

Wy scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Yuck."

"They _like_ bamboo."

Logan's assertion did not convince their daughter and Wyatt shook her head. "Panda sad," she emphatically declared.

Veronica turned her face into Logan's side to hide her smile. "I know if I was a panda, I'd be sad with no ice cream," she muttered under her breath.

"I give up." He hung his head in defeat. "Come on, let's go see the lions."

The baby put up her hands like claws and let out a loud _rawwrr. _This time there was no giggling from her, but Logan laughed. "Good job, Jellybean."

At his praise, she beamed and roared for Veronica. "Mama do."

Bending at the waist, she touched her nose to Wyatt's and roared with her. The baby grinned and patted her face, "Tilly Mama," and then scampered after Grandpa and Nana Dot to roar for them.

"It's amazing the things she remembers," Veronica mused. "She's still on about Dumbo crying and being sad and she watched that movie _weeks_ ago."

"Memory like an elephant," he smirked. Threading his fingers through hers, he swung their arms. "Or like her—"

She hip-checked him to keep him from finishing and then rested her head on his arm for their walk past the big cats. The tawny-colored lions, Koya and Kima, were another one of Wyatt's favorites. Of course she called them _'kitties'_ and wanted to take them home with her.

"Did you know that mountain lions instinctively seek out the weakest member of the pack? So when we walk over there, they will immediately focus their attention on Wyatt as the easiest prey?"

Logan came to an abrupt halt. "Are you trying to make me hate the zoo?"

Veronica shrugged. "I thought it was interesting."

"Thanks, Snapple facts."

They continued to wind their way along Big Cat Trail and Logan stopped to admire the lynx resting under the honeysuckle. "Ah, look a bobcat."

"Wrong species," she said as she shook her head.

"I was talking about you." Tucking her against his side, he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. "Did _you_ know that some people call the bobcat a spitfire because it's fearless and won't back down from a fight?"

Angling her head to study his face, he met her gaze with one of his intense stares. The kind that made her feel as if she was his sole focus . It communicated more effectively than his words that he was okay with her investigation. He was still her smart-mouth teenage Logan, but this added depth and maturity just made him sexier. "Overheard my conversation with my dad, did ya?"

"That's a distinct possibility." Smiling, he tapped her nose before turning away to locate Wyatt who was squeezing between Grandpa and Nana Dot, trying to disentangle their hands so she could hold them. "Hey Bean, let's go see—"

"No E.L.E.P.H.A.N.T.S." Veronica cautioned.

"Got it."

They avoided the elephants and went to the Urban Jungle to feed the giraffes and then, as a reward for not complaining that it was time to leave, they let Wyatt ride on the miniature railroad in Balboa Park while Keith and Dottie went to the Marketplace Deli to get them all lunch.

Veronica leaned over and stole a bite of Logan's sandwich —turkey, bacon, avocado, and jack cheese on squaw bread— while he was busy giving Wyatt another triangle of her ham and cheese. When he was done tending to their daughter, he picked up his lunch, eyed the missing bite, and turned to stare at her.

"Wasn't me; I'm very happy with my salad." She tacked on a sarcastic, "Mmm," which made him grin.

Most of the offerings at the deli contained luncheon meat that she couldn't eat and she wasn't in the mood for their pizza, which is why she was stuck with grilled chicken on a spinach _salad_. She jabbed a piece of chicken with her plastic fork and then frowned at the bowl. _A lunch date over salad_.

"Veronica?"

She heard Dottie call her name and responded with a distracted, _hmm_. The picture Lisa took of the two women eating salad had been focused on the other woman, not the trophy wife they were being paid to follow.

"Earth to Mars." Keith waved his hand in front of her face. "Do you want some of Dottie's chili?"

"No, thanks"—she shook her head and flashed Dottie a grateful smile— "I'm good." Motives for murder: gain, revenge, elimination, jealousy, and blood lust. _Could it have been revenge against both Lisa _and_ Anthony?_ Looking up from her salad, she pointed the chicken-bearing fork at her dad. "Did Anthony Calabrese cross the border alone?"

At the mention of the beheaded and barbecued Anthony, Dottie lifted her head from Keith's shoulder and her eyes darted to Wyatt who was happily eating her sandwich and telling Daddy that panda bears liked cheese.

Keith followed Dottie's gaze to his granddaughter; then he nodded to himself as if in confirmation that Wyatt was occupied, and refocused on Veronica. "I thought you were convinced that the FBI was wrong?"

Veronica shrugged. "I'm working on a new theory." She ate the dangling piece of chicken and looked at her daughter. _Maybe not for revenge, but protection?_ Turning over the possibility, she poked at her salad. "Did Vinnie Calabrese have any kids?"

Her father answered, "I don't know."

At the same time Logan said, "Two."

Veronica's head swiveled in the direction of her husband, her surprise apparent.

"It was in one of the newspaper articles- two boys, but they were young at the time. Three and five maybe? _Not_ old enough to be driving the blue car."

"Me d'ive," piped Wyatt.

Logan nodded. "A tank… when you're thirty."

"Inside a giant hamster ball," Keith added and the two men grinned at each other.

Veronica rolled her eyes at their moment of fatherhood bonding and finished her salad. _Two little boys_. It was definitely time for some surveillance and a detailed search on the other members of the Calabrese family.

Logan nudged her shoulder and offered up his final bite of sandwich, which she accepted while peering around him to check on the baby. Half of Wyatt's sandwich was gone and she'd eaten the cheese off the two remaining squares; there were still some Goldfish crackers left untouched along with a few apple slices, but her eyes had that glazed, zoned-out look that said naptime was imminent. Veronica started gathering up the trash. The delay and distract part of the day was over and it was time to go see Mac.

Dottie helped pack up the remains and Keith carried the trash to a nearby can.

"Up Daddy," Wyatt yawned as she held out her arms to Logan. He complied with her sleepy request and she snuggled into the crook of his neck for the walk to the car.

In deference to a napping Wyatt, the car ride home was a quiet one. Her father tuned the radio to San Diego's Jazz 88.3 and it cut off communication between the front and back seats. Veronica turned to Dottie. "So tell me more about this job offer for Logan."

"The direct approach," she murmured as her eyes darted to the back of Logan's head. "What did he tell you about it?"

_It was more what he didn't say_. "That he'd be working on a drone program for the Navy."

Dottie nodded and provided a vague description. They were recruiting pilots to fly jets equipped with sensors to record various maneuvers that were to be replicated by the drones. Then those same pilots would operate the drones for comparison.

Veronica waited for more, but Dottie was just as tight-lipped as Logan with information. She frowned. No wars, no deployments, and no one would be shooting at him, but it still didn't sound like the safest job in the world. Test pilots crashed and training accidents happened. "When's the interview?"

"There is none; the job is his if he wants it." Dot leaned forward to remind Keith about a furniture delivery tomorrow signaling the end of their discussion and Logan grinned at Veronica in the rearview mirror.

She stuck her tongue out at his reflection. "Eavesdropping can lead to trouble."

Logan's grin widened. "You would know," he happily agreed.

When they arrived at the house, he carried Wyatt inside for Keith and Dottie and Veronica used the time to transfer to the passenger seat. The moment he returned and slid behind the wheel she pounced. "What aren't you telling me? Do you need to re-enlist? _Can_ you re-enlist? Is this job some kind of special assign—"

"God, you're a pest." With a flick of his wrist, he shooed away her questions in mock annoyance and when he turned his head to reverse out of the driveway, she could see the amusement in his eyes. "I hope you're not going to give Mac the same third-degree."

"She already has a job," she growled in frustration making Logan laugh.

"Tired of being the breadwinner?"

"I'm tired of something." She shifted in her seat to face him. "Why can't you just answer all my questions without giving me lip? Your life would be so much easier."

"If I wanted easy, I wouldn't have married Veronica Mars." Logan held out his hand for her and she took it.

"You know you're going to tell me everything anyway."

"Of course, but it's more fun this way." He glanced at her. "Maybe we can practice your interrogation technique? The one where you tie me to the bed and use your feminine wiles to seduce the information from me?"

She shook her head. "I practiced that one last week with the mailman; he had a big package for me."

"Special delivery?"

"No," she sighed. "Just regular post."

"How disappointing for you."

There wasn't much traffic on the freeway —a magical occurrence where everyone was still enjoying their Sunday plans and not on the roads— but it would be a different story on their way home. Logan took advantage of the open road pushing the car a little faster than he normally drove. "Can't do that in a minivan."

"Let's not get carried away Veronica, your car isn't exactly a Bugatti."

He pulled up to the main entrance of the hospital and Veronica hopped out of the car. When the valet spotted her, he leveled her with an evil glare and muttered, "I'm on break."

Logan watched the attendant walk away and arched a questioning eyebrow. Veronica shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Uh-huh. Maybe you should read that book, _How to Win Friends and Influence People_?"

"I will- right after you." She turned on her heel and headed inside. The automatic glass door sliding shut on Logan's: _'guess I'll go park the car, dear.'_

The front desk directed her to a room on the second floor. It was the same location as the surgical ICU, but Mac's new room was on the other side of the floor behind a set of doors labeled intermediate care unit. A strip of paper beneath the room number —202— had the name 'Mackenzie' scrawled across it in block letters and Chris the security guard was standing next to it.

The door opened as Veronica approached and Dick stepped into the hall, his expression glum. "Hey, Ronnie."

There were too many grim possibilities for his dejected attitude and Veronica ignored them all. "Is she awake?"

"Yeah, but before you go—"

Not waiting for him to finish, she pushed her way into the room. It was overly bright as if someone was trying to make the space _cheerful, _but the monitors coupled with Mac's shaved head and turban bandage dispelled the myth. Her pale skin was a stark contrast to the deep bruises on the side of Mac's face and black circles ringed both of her eyes. A plaster cast covered her right arm from above the elbow almost down to her fingertips. The evidence of her injuries was a jarring reminder that Mac wasn't completely better and that her recovery could still go sideways.

_That_ idea rooted Veronica in place at the foot of the bed. With a faked grin, she joked: "If you wanted a vacation all you needed to do was ask me."

Twin blackened eyes stared at her. "Who" —Mac swallowed, but it failed to rid the sandpaper from her voice— "Who _are_ you?"

Veronica blanched at the question. _No one said anything about amnesia._ Her eyes darted to the door. _Maybe that's what Dick was trying to tell me_. "Uh, it's… I'm Veronica." A smile twitched at the corner of Mac's mouth and Veronica's gaze narrowed. "That's not funny, Mac."

"It was a little funny." Her fingertips grazed the edge of the bandage wound around her head. "Brain injury humor."

Veronica moved to the bedside chair. "How are you" —she smirked— "Can you believe I was going to ask how you're feeling? Lame."

"Better than asking me what year it is and who's the president. And for the record, it's 2001 and the president is HAL."

Veronica shook her head. "Don't you mean 1984 and President Orwell?"

"That's very bleak." Her eyes clouded. "They just ask questions and no one will tell me anything. How's Lisa? Was she hurt? Is she here or has she been discharged already?"

_So much for _me_ not giving _Mac_ the third degree_. Veronica hedged. "What do you remember?"

"Leaving Kane Software?" Mac frowned. "Lisa was driving me home and" —her speech was halting— "She made a right turn instead of going left. When I asked her why she said…" Mac screwed her eyes closed and smacked the bed. "It's so frustrating."

There were plenty of times Veronica wished she could forget things. Not complete amnesia, but a selective case- the ability to pick which memories to keep and which ones to discard. She thought it would've made life easier, but seeing how upset Mac was, Veronica wasn't so sure.

"What has Lisa told you?"

Veronica winced. "So you don't remember anything else?"

"If I remembered, why would I need to _ask_ you," Mac snapped. Veronica added irritable to the list of adjectives describing her friend's mood. "How would you like it if people kept information from you?"

Weighing her options, she decided to go with the truth. "Lisa…" Veronica's words faltered. _Maybe the doctors had the right idea keeping the news from Mac_. "She didn't… Lisa died in the accident."

Mac's eyes widened and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. "She killed her," Mac mumbled.

Veronica's head snapped up; her brain on full alert. "She?"

It took a minute and then Mac exclaimed, "Yes!" Her excitement at remembering a new detail was apparent on her face in the bright eyes and flushed cheeks. "A woman! That's why Lisa went that way; she said there was a woman following us."


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

_A woman_. It jelled with Veronica's new working theory of the case, but it wasn't enough to _prove_ anything and Mac was unable to supply more details. When Veronica had asked, Mac agreed that the car following them may have been blue, but she couldn't recall the woman behind the wheel or say for certain it was the same car that hit them.

Veronica sipped her morning cup of decaf and stared at Lisa's photo of the trophy wife and her female lunch date. She considered bringing the photo to Mac for a positive ID and immediately nixed the idea.

Yesterday's conversation about the accident had only upset Mac; she'd become more and more agitated the harder she'd tried to remember. Veronica finally had to use Logan's arrival in the hospital room to change the subject - making him show Mac pictures of Wyatt at the zoo in her hot pink tutu. It had been enough to calm Mac and return her blood pressure to normal and she'd started to fall asleep in the middle of Logan's story about the giraffes. They'd cut their visit short with Veronica promising to come back with some of Wyatt's original artwork for the walls.

It was an easy promise to keep.

Wyatt had been more than eager to make pretty pictures for 'Aun'ie Mac' _especially_ when she'd found out it involved fingerpaint. After they'd returned from the hospital, Logan stripped Wyatt down to her diaper, gave her big sheets of paper, and sat next to the pool with her while she painted. Then they'd all gone swimming, ate barbecued chicken for dinner, and watched a movie in the big bed. It was the most relaxed Veronica had been since Duncan's arrival on their doorstep. _Mac is awake_.

She put down her mug and picked up the newspaper clipping. It was the story Logan mentioned about Vinnie Calabrese and his sons; he'd retrieved it from the white board after Wyatt had gone to sleep last night and Veronica had read it enough times she could quote entire passages.

When she'd gone over the articles the first time, Veronica had ignored the human interest piece —a look at the 'other victims' in the case— and focused her attention on the details of Andres Salgado's murder. This time though, she wasn't interested in the drugs or the cartel, but the Calabrese family.

Logan was close with the ages of Vinnie's sons– not three and five, but aged one and four during their father's murder trial, which would make them eight and eleven years old now. A quote toward the end of the article contained the information Veronica wanted. _"I don't know how I'm going to raise our two boys alone without their father."_ The woeful lament was attributed to Vinnie's wife, Gina Calabrese. _Maybe he should've thought about his two boys before he killed someone, Gina_.

It was a tenuous idea. That the salad-eating brunette in Lisa's surveillance photo was actually Vinnie Calabrese's widow, but the longer Veronica considered the possibility the more convinced she was that she was right.

The picture was important to Lisa. Even after she'd started working the Kane Software investigation, she'd gone through Veronica's desk to take back the trophy wife file and this lunch photo. Lisa was supposed to be tailing said trophy wife —_Vanessa_— and yet the picture was focused on her lunch companion instead. _Not just important to Lisa, but maybe personal, too?_

It _fit_: the coke addict having lunch with Gina Calabrese - a woman with known ties to the _coke_-smuggling Sinaloa cartel. The FBI believed she was living here in California _and_ Agent Townsend suspected she helped Anthony cross the border into Mexico.

_Maybe she delivered Anthony to the cartel to keep her sons safe?_ Veronica frowned. She didn't know if the cartel would go after Vinnie's children, but she didn't doubt the possibility. Words like _ethics_ and _morals_ and _rules_ were probably _not_ part of the cartel's vocabulary. _Or maybe Gina was looking for an 'in' with the cartel?_ The idea of raising her two boys alone might've made her think about her finances. _Dealing coke for the same cartel that killed her husband?_

All this guessing wasn't going to get her anywhere. First, she needed to find a picture of Gina Calabrese and confirm it was the same woman munching on a Niçoise Salad. Then she could stake out trophy wife's house and see if the drug delivery boy would lead her back to Gina. Veronica went back to her search through the archives of the _Chicago Tribune_. Most of Lisa's articles regarding the Calabrese murder trial were culled from the Trib, but so far Veronica was having no luck finding one with a picture of Vinnie's wife.

A deep yawn erupted from the baby monitor immediately followed by chatter. Veronica smiled at the nonsensical _'toddler-ese.'_ Some mornings it was as if Wyatt stored words in her sleep and woke up with entire conversations that needed to be had _right now_. "Time get up, wabbit."

Little feet slapped against the hardwood floor. Veronica waited for the rattle of the baby gate and frowned when it didn't arrive. She was already out of her seat and on her way into the hall when a loud bang echoed from the baby's room. Rushing down the hall, she almost collided with Logan as he stumbled from their bedroom in his boxer briefs. Another thud from Wyatt's room propelled them both forward.

Their daughter was gripping the edge of her closet door and, as they watched, she threw it open. The doorknob smacked against the wall recreating the loud bang. Wyatt grinned at the two of them. "Open." She grabbed the door and swung it shut. The dull thud was the foam pinch guard around the door's edge striking the jamb and preventing Wyatt's little fingers from injury. "Cwose," she proudly declared as she reached for the door to do it again.

"This is _not_ the kind of banging I like to wake up to," Logan muttered under his breath. Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed and eyed Veronica. "I think it's your turn." Before she could protest, he shook his head to silence her and added: "Crayons."

Veronica's lips pursed. "_Water_," she countered.

Tapping his chin, he mulled it over and then his shoulders slumped in defeat. "My turn."

Veronica grinned. "I'll go start breakfast."

Logan grabbed the door, stopping it from hitting the wall. "Let's open and close something else. Like maybe your dresser for some clothes."

Wyatt's defiant, "No," was Veronica's cue to skedaddle. She wandered back into the kitchen in time to hear Wyatt ask— "Me 'wimtoot?" —through the baby monitor. Turning off the Dropcam, Veronica focused on breakfast.

There were only so many times you could feed a baby bacon and eggs or pancakes. She took strawberries and yogurt from the fridge and granola from the pantry to create a breakfast parfait in a small glass bowl. Then she cleared her laptop and files from the kitchen table.

Wyatt skidded into the kitchen wearing her printed, pale yellow bathing suit with ruffled lace shoulder straps and a wide bow in the small of her back. She was dragging Cuddles by the ear behind her. Half of her hair was brushed and in a ponytail while the other half was a tangled mess.

Veronica ran her fingers through the fine strands of Wyatt's hair trying to tame them into order. "Did Daddy quit?" Not understanding, the baby frowned at her.

"Someone wouldn't sit still." Logan held out the brush for Veronica as he walked into the kitchen. Gone were the boxer briefs; in their place was a pair of black swimming trunks. His hair was just as messy as their daughter's- matted on one side and the rest sticking up in all different directions.

Veronica combed her fingers through his hair. "You're in need of a haircut, flyboy."

"That's not what I need." Logan flattened his palm on the small of her back. He tugged her body against his, a knee slipping between her legs as he bent his head to steal a good morning kiss.

Veronica melted into him; her hand sliding up his chest and wrapping itself around the back of his neck.

Wyatt pulled on Veronica's shirt. "Me eat?"

Logan smiled against her mouth, ending the kiss and looked down at their daughter. "Is somebody hungry?"

A big nod. "F'ina."

"Okay." He scooped her up and put her in the booster chair. "Eat some of your fruit and yogurt while Daddy makes farina." Logan pushed the parfait closer and gave her a blue, soft-bite toddler spoon.

Wyatt ignored the utensil. Using her fingers, she picked the strawberry slices from the bowl, placed them on the table and tried wiping off the yogurt. _Tried_ being the operative word. The result of her _'I don't want my food to touch'_ phase was crushed berries and sticky fingers. If Veronica didn't intervene it was soon going to become fingerpainting with food.

Grabbing a washcloth from the sink, she cleaned Wyatt's hands and the smooshed parfait from the table. She gave her some plain berries, left the yogurt mixture for Logan, and finished putting pigtails in Wyatt's hair. Veronica's stomach growled reminding her that she needed something for breakfast, too.

Logan grinned. "Farina?"

Veronica tilted her head while she considered the offer. "With extra butter?"

"Yes, dear." He doctored the farina with sugar, milk, and butter, and then ladled it into bowls. "Any luck finding a photo of Vinnie's widow?"

She shook her head. "A Google search just gives me pictures of an actress from Miami Vice."

Sitting across from her, he nodded. "Detective Gina- Sonny's occasional girlfriend. Nothing in the newspaper?" He blew on a spoon of farina and fed it to Wyatt.

"Me do."

"It's hot, Jellybean."

She stuck her finger in the farina to test it for herself. Her lips quivered and she yanked her finger from the bowl holding it in the air. She fixed Logan with a hard stare like he hadn't given her any warning. "Hot," she cried.

He sucked the tip of her finger and then blew across it. "Better?"

Mollified, Wyatt went back to eating her strawberries and swinging her legs, her feet kicking the chair with a consistent thump, thump, thump. She shoved a berry in Cuddles face. "Wabbit eat."

Veronica inclined her head toward the grubby bunny. "Rabbit needs a B.A.T.H."

"Today, during N.A.P. time," Logan agreed.

Frowning, she shook her head. "I don't think there'll be any N.A.P.P.I.N.G. if Cuddles isn't front and center."

Wyatt's neck twisted as her head followed the conversation; her forehead furrowed and her lips pursed as she tried to understand what they were saying. Logan fed her another mouthful of farina as a distraction. "Maybe while we're in the P.O.O.L. then."

"What else are you going to do today?"

He shrugged. "I'll probably finish building the border and put down the rubber mulch- the swingset's being delivered this afternoon."

"Do you have to put it together?"

"Trina hired a contractor; he's coming on Saturday, _after_ Trina gets here." He smirked. "My sister didn't trust me to wait for her."

"Well… would you have?"

He laughed. "Probably not."

Contractor be damned; Veronica wouldn't be surprised to come home tonight and find him and Wyatt climbing, sliding, and swinging on the cedar monstrosity. _I'm married to a big child_. "Wait for your sister; the two of you can play together. Just no pushing on the slide and no throwing sand."

"Gee Mom, where's the fun in that?"

"No t'ow," Wyatt told Cuddles while wagging her finger at the strawberry-covered bunny.

Veronica smiled. "See, you have to teach by example."

"Then she should _definitely_ not watch me and Trina play siblings."

It was true that their relationship was better, but residing in separate counties and doing most of their communicating via telephone certainly helped. A week of Logan and Trina living under the same roof suddenly sounded less Jem and Scout and more _Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? _ "You mean, all this time we could've been friends," Veronica muttered and he smiled.

"Don't worry, Trina won't be cooking any rats- she hates the kitchen." Logan handed the baby her spoon and pushed the cooled farina closer. "You're reconsidering the idea of a guest room now, aren't you?"

"A little," she admitted with a sigh.

They hadn't been thinking about baby number two when they put her office on the same side of the house as the bedrooms. Then, it made sense for her to be able to work closer to Wyatt's room. Now, it meant turning her office into a nursery. "You know, if we buy a sofa bed, I can move my desk and books into the guest room and still have half an office."

"Okay." He scraped the last of the yogurt and berries from the bowl and thoughtfully chewed. "You know, we might need to add a second floor before having baby number three."

Veronica choked on her coffee. "You're delusional," she sputtered.

Ignoring her, he rinsed out his bowl and put it in the dishwasher. "I'm thinking three bedrooms and another bath so we're ready for baby number four and five too." He grinned.

Five babies was his running joke. At least she _thought_ he was only kidding. "When science figures out the male pregnancy you can add as many rooms as you want; I'll just go live at the Neptune Grand where it's quiet."

"Booty calls with my wife? I don't think so."

"Booty," Wyatt exclaimed with glee. She chanted the new word, changing the emphasis on the syllables, and then she stopped and tilted her head at Logan. "Booty?"

Veronica put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. "Yes Daddy, please explain 'booty' to our two-year-old."

"It's, uh… treasure belonging to a pirate" —he cleaned Wyatt's face and hands— "Like Captain Hook in Peter Pan."

The baby scrunched her nose. "No like."

"Daddy certainly likes it," Veronica said under her breath, but loud enough for Logan to hear.

He didn't disappoint. "I'll show you just how much tonight." Ducking his head, he whispered in her ear, "Edge of the bed, you on your knees, and a little—"

"Hello sailor." She batted her eyes at him and he groaned.

"You're playing dirty again, Mars."

"Not yet, but I will be… _later_." She kissed him before he could respond and got up from the table. "Now, I have to go interrogate a G-man and track down a widow."

"And stop at the drug store," Logan added.

Veronica flashed him a saucy grin. "Already done."

Leaning over, she gave Wyatt kisses and unstrapped her from the booster chair. She picked her up and tickled her side. It was enough to make the baby drop Cuddles and, with a nod toward the floor, Veronica kicked the bunny to Logan. She spun Wyatt around and headed for the living room so the baby wouldn't see Cuddles leaving for a trip to the washing machine.

"Mama 'wim?"

"When I get home I'll swim with you, okay?"

Wyatt hugged her neck and rested her head on Veronica's shoulder. "No go."

_Obviously the people who write parenting books don't have kids_. She kissed Wyatt's forehead and rubbed her back. _How else could they advise you to 'not linger' and 'leave with a smile' when your baby was breaking your heart?_ "Mommy has to go to work now, but tonight we can play campout."

"Mewwo's?" There was a little perk to her voice, but she didn't lift her head.

"Yes, we can roast marshmallows and have grilled mac-and-cheese sandwiches for dinner."

"Daddy?"

"Of course, we need him to read us stories, remember?" While he was on deployment, Logan left tapes of him reading Wyatt's favorite bedtime stories so he could tuck her in at night. But Veronica used them whenever Wyatt was feeling a little sad including during their "camping" trips in the living room.

The baby lifted her head and started to squirm. Veronica put her down and she went racing from the room calling for Logan. _Good job, Veronica - remind her of Daddy being gone_. She sighed. _Maybe I should reread that parenting book. _

"Whoa, slow down, Jellybean." Logan walked into the living room with Wyatt clinging to his neck. "What did I miss?"

"Me winning the Mommy of the Year award," she muttered the disparaging comment with a self-deprecating smile and a sad shake of her head.

His gaze softened and he tenderly stroked her cheek. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he kissed her nose. "You should win that award; you're a great mother, Veronica."

Unconvinced, she briefly rested her hand on Wyatt's back. Their daughter was perfectly content now, snuggled with Daddy, and smiling. She didn't know which was worse – the baby pleading with her to stay home or her not caring if Veronica left. She sighed. "I'll try to be home early."

Letting her hand fall away, she retrieved her bag, and headed for the front door. Veronica could feel Logan watching her the entire time, but she didn't look at him because she knew his eyes would be that warm mix of compassion, tenderness, and worry.

"No!" —Wyatt barreled into her— "Kiss-kiss fish!" Clutching Veronica's legs, she turned up her face to receive goodbye kisses. Veronica dropped her bag and scooped up the baby, hugging her close.

She shook her head at her own foolishness. _Trying to leave the house without goodbye kisses- silly Mommy_. Veronica gave the baby a gentle squeeze and showered her face with kisses. "I love you, sweet pea."

"Love Mama." Wyatt gave Veronica's cheek a pat and then she was done with the affectionate moment, writhing free, and running for the yard. "Me 'wim!"

Veronica smiled after her little bundle of energy and left the house.

If Logan was right and the young kid making frequent visits to the trophy wife's house _was_ the drug delivery boy then he wouldn't show at her house until this afternoon. _Buying coke during her son's afternoon nap – A_+_ parenting there, Vanessa. _That left Veronica two options for her morning. She could either go to the office to continue trolling the newspaper archives looking for an out-of-date photo of Gina Calabrese, or she could show the lunch-date photo to someone who would be able to identify her.

A lot of detective work could be done with a computer or on the telephone, but when Veronica had questions she liked to ask them in person. Face-to-face, she could gauge the other person's body language and watch their eyes for a lie. Plus it was harder to ignore someone when they were standing in front of you. _I'm very hard to avoid when I want to know something_. Veronica grinned. _Just ask my husband_.

She headed north to access the 5 near UC San Diego and called the office. Paige answered on the first ring, "Mars Investigations."

"Hey it's Veronica, is my dad in yet?"

"He just got in a few minutes ago; I'll put you through."

"Wait, before you do, can you text me the address and phone number for Oliver Bettencourt?"

"I thought that case was closed?"

Veronica frowned. "Not by me?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Here it is. Lisa gave me a final report before—" An abrupt stop and start. "—before she started working at Kane Software. She said there was no evidence his ex was using drugs and she wanted me to return the rest of his retainer. I didn't get a chance… with everything that happened… I'm sorry, Veronica. I should have updated the file. Do you want me—"

"It's not a problem, Paige. Don't worry about it. Just text me Bettencourt's information and put me through to my dad."

Paige apologized again before putting her on hold. _Lisa had closed the case_. Veronica considered that information. Lisa's notes in the trophy-wife file were cynical asides about Daddy wanting custody only to retain control of the trust, but she'd never said the case was closed. _Was she hoping that Paige would pull the file from my desk before I saw it? And when that didn't work, Lisa took the file herself?_ It was plausible. _Keeping me away from that case would be a smart move_.

"Good morning, kiddo; are you on your way in?"

"No, I'm on my way to the San Diego field office of the FBI."

Keith chuckled. "Give my regards to Agent Townsend. Does this— damn."

A gurgling sound punctuated the curse. "Are you actually using the _espresso_ machine?"

"Trying. Paige finally showed me how to work this contraption, but it still seems like a lot of work for such a small cup of coffee."

"_I've_ shown you how to work the machine- _several_ times, if I recall."

"What can I say? Paige has more patience than you do, honey."

Veronica wanted to argue the point, but found she couldn't disagree. Instead she went back to her original subject. "Can you call Agent Townsend and let him know I'm coming?" She'd considered a surprise visit, but had changed her mind. She didn't want to drive all the way over there to find him out in the field. "I want to see if he can make an ID of Gina Calabrese from a photo I have." _And maybe show me the surveillance tapes of the border crossing_.

"I'll do it as soon as we hang up."

"Thanks" —she paused— "What have you told him about the case?"

In usual Mars fashion, the answer was very little. Keith had kept the information sharing to a minimum; only telling the special agent that he was investigating a fatal car accident and that he suspected Anthony Calabrese was the culprit. "Do you want me to mention the picture?"

"No, just let him know I'll be there in… twenty minutes." Veronica disconnected the call and made a slight detour to Einstein Brothers for a jalapeno cheddar bagel with scrambled eggs and cheddar cheese. _Apparently, my Zagat-Guide-baby-brain has _finally_ kicked in for this pregnancy_. She balanced her carton of orange juice between her thighs and ate one-handed while she navigated her way back to the freeway.

Veronica took exit thirty and made the quick turns that would take her to Vista Sorrento Parkway. The FBI office was on the opposite side of the road, forcing her to make a U-turn to reach her destination. There was parking available in the front lot of the white brick and windowed office building.

Getting out of the car, she stared at the fenced-in perimeter and the separate security building on her right. Veronica swallowed the last bite of sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice. She tossed the empty carton on the passenger seat, grabbed her messenger bag from the back, and trudged across the parking lot to security.

It was a long process —an inspection of her ID, a thorough search of her bag, metal detectors, a call inside— before she was granted access to the building itself. And, by the time she pushed open the glass front door, Special Agent Gil Townsend was waiting for her in the lobby. _Not a good sign_.

"Veronica Mars." He was tall and solid, round-shouldered and dressed in an off-the-rack navy blue suit.

Veronica shook the hand he offered and smiled. "It was nice of you to meet me, but I didn't need an escort through the building."

"My sources say different" —the corner of his mouth inched upward— "I believe the exact words were, 'don't leave her alone in the building or she'll know everything we do in a matter of minutes.'"

"Well, maybe not _minutes_, but close enough I suppose."

A genuine smile at her words transformed his dour expression into a pleasant one. "How can I help you?" He took a step toward the small grouping of chairs in the lobby.

Veronica pretended not to see his movement; turning away and inclining her head in the direction of the elevators. A subtle cue intended to get him to invite her upstairs. When he didn't fall for it, she circled the front desk and walked deeper into the building. "I have a photo I want to show you."

Gil fell into step beside her. As he stretched out his arm to block her progress, Veronica reached past him, jabbing the call button for the elevator. "And I was hoping you'd show me the surveillance video of Anthony Calabrese crossing the border." Leaning against the marble tiled wall, she stared up at him and tilted her head. "They walked across at San Ysidro, right?"

"You're pretty good," he said with a slight hint of admiration.

The elevator doors slid open and Veronica ducked inside. "You should've trusted your sources." Her hand hovered over the button panel. "Floor?"

Instead of answering, he tapped the round number five with his knuckle. "As I told your" —he conducted a fast appraisal of her appearance in an attempt to determine the right relationship and settled for— "_Keith_ on the phone, Anthony Calabrese is dead."

"How did he get across?"

Crossing from San Ysidro —the nation's busiest border crossing— into Tijuana used to be an easy, uninterrupted walk. In the past, no documents were required to enter Mexico and a driver license was the only thing needed to gain re-entry into the United States. It was a trip Logan had made many times and last night he'd filled her in on all the changes to the system that had happened during the intervening years.

Passports were now required for pedestrians. It helped cut down on criminals fleeing to Mexico and they were even starting to deport undocumented Americans from their country. Hundreds of Americans deported over the past few years had outstanding warrants and more than a few were on the FBI's Most Wanted List.

"He used his brother's passport."

Veronica quirked an eyebrow. Trying to use a dead man's passport —a convicted felon's passport— to cross the border seemed like a risky move. _No more than using an expired passport purchased online_. She dismissed the thought.

"It's not a foolproof system," Gil supplied as explanation. "Some days when the lines are too long, they just confirm you _have_ a passport and wave you through."

He walked her through an open bullpen of some occupied and some empty desks and cubicles to an office near the front. It was small —a desk, two visitor's chairs, and a wall of filing cabinets— but his name was on the door and it had a window. The gunmetal gray desk was conspicuously bare. No files, no phone messages, not a single slip of paper, not even a stray paperclip. _Come on, what could I really do with a paperclip?_ Reflexively, her eyes wandered to the cam locks on the filing cabinets. _Never mind._

"Did he cross alone or was his sister-in-law with him?" Veronica asked as she took a seat in the chair closest to the window with a view of the door.

Gil settled himself behind his desk. "With Gina and both of her boys."

"A regular family outing." It definitely would have looked less suspicious- a family of four versus a single man traveling alone. "Can I see the tape?"

Viewing the crossing wasn't really necessary. The images would probably be too far away and grainy for her to make a better identification than the FBI, but she wanted to see Anthony for herself.

"I thought you might." He swiveled the computer screen and with a few keystrokes an image appeared and with another keystroke it started to play.

Not grainy and it was in full color. The feed resembled stop motion animation as if the cars and people were moved forward in small increments by some unseen giant hand when the camera wasn't rolling. Veronica knew it was the result of stringing a bunch of stills together.

Another tap of the keyboard as Gil froze the frame. He pointed to the bottom, right of the screen. A man and woman were walking side by side, holding hands. The man carried a child in his left arm. Veronica could just make out the top of the toddler's head over Anthony's shoulder. The other boy was on Gina's right and she was gripping his arm. Gil let the video run and Veronica watched them disappear into Mexico.

"There are other angles?"

She shook her head at his offer. Seeing the same scene again wouldn't help her. Instead she took the lunch photo from her bag and slid it across the desk to him. Gil studied it for a moment, and then asked: "Who's the blonde?"

Not 'who are _they_.' His questioning only the identity of the trophy wife caused Veronica a frisson of excitement that her assumptions were correct. "Not important" —she tapped the brunette in the photograph— "I need you to tell me who she is."

A perplexed frown marred his brow as he stared at first the photo and then Veronica. "That's Gina Calabrese," he said with hesitation. "I mean she's a little older and her hair is lighter, but…"

Gil leaned over and withdrew a brown file folder from his bottom desk drawer. Putting it on the desk, he flipped it open. The right side was a sheaf of documents attached to the interior with a prong fastener. Three photos were paper-clipped on the left side of the file. He removed them and dealt them face-up in the center of the desk like he was dealing the flop in a game of Texas Hold'em.

Veronica moved closer to study them, glancing at the name on the file tab while she did- _Calabrese, Gina_. Despite the myths, the FBI did _not_ keep a file on every American. If they had a separate file for Gina it meant she was under investigation for something either now or in the past.

She turned her attention to the photos. All three of them were older —if Veronica had to guess, she'd say they were taken during Vinnie's trial— and they were all close-ups of the same woman who was lunching with Vanessa Bettencourt a/k/a the trophy wife. Gil was right. In the photos, Gina's hair was black instead of brown and there were fewer lines on her face.

"I'm going to need to know where and when your photo was taken and the name of Gina's lunch date." It wasn't a question and he used what Veronica called _'cop voice'_ – the authoritative tone meant to brook little or no argument. She bristled. _Won't work on me, or did your sources fail to mention I was raised by a cop?_

"Why?"

He scooped up his photos and returned them to the file. _Apparently, show and tell time is over_. "She's wanted for aiding and abetting a fugitive." The offhand reply didn't sound like the entire story.

Veronica weighed her options. She still had plenty of questions for Agent Townsend and she wasn't ready to call an end to their talk. Unlike attorney-client privilege there was no specific protection afforded to people who hired a private investigator and giving Gil a name wasn't the same as divulging the facts of her case, so she wouldn't be betraying her client. "The blonde is Vanessa Bettencourt."

Taking a pen from his desk, he made a note of the name on the front of Gina's file. The blue Bic was poised for her next words and when none were forthcoming, he leveled her with an expectant look.

Veronica shrugged. "I don't know the where and when. The photo was taken by my employee, Lisa Watson."

He wrote Lisa's name on the file with a question mark. "She's the one who died in the car accident?" At Veronica's nod, his pen started tapping the front of the file. The stimming behavior wasn't nerves or agitation —he probably wasn't even consciously aware of doing it— it was just something to do with his hands while lost in thought. "You thought Anthony was responsible for the crash and now you think it's Gina?"

"I do."

Gil considered her answer. "Why? Do you think Lisa found something or saw something she shouldn't have?"

"Lisa Watson is in witness protection; her real name is –_was_– Elena Salgado. She was Andres Salgado's sister."

A low whistle, as Gil dropped the pen and sat back in his chair. "Well that changes things- why didn't Keith tell me any of this when he called me on Friday?"

"When you told him Anthony was dead, he thought the connection between the Calabrese family and our case was over."

An appraising look and slow nod said he wasn't entirely sure of her reasoning, but was willing to let it slide. "Your guess on motive? Revenge for Vinnie?"

_Too flippant_. Veronica's gaze narrowed and she touched the edge of the case file on his desk. "Why don't you tell me why the FBI is _really_ investigating Gina, and then I'll give you my thoughts on motive."

He smiled. "You should have finished your FBI internship, Veronica." Without waiting for a response from her, he reopened the file. Under the clipped pages was a fourth photo he'd been withholding. He pulled it from the file and slid it across the desk to her.

It was another photo of Gina, but she wasn't alone and it wasn't a surveillance photo. Veronica recognized the angle of the shot, the classic car in the background, and the man with his arms wrapped around Gina. It was none other than Andres Salgado - Lisa's brother. This photo must have been taken at the same time as the one from Lisa's shoebox, the one marked with the letters _'res'_ that was currently in Veronica's kitchen. "Where did you get this?"

A one-shouldered shrug. "Anonymous tip."

_Lisa_. She must have sent Agent Townsend the photo when she realized Gina was the key to the entire case. Things that didn't make sense before now shifted into focus. If Gina was having an affair with Andres —and from the body language in the photo, she was— it would explain how the Calabrese brothers targeted Andres in the first place. Gina sold him out. Possibly even giving them everything they'd need to infiltrate Andres' house on the night of his murder.

It also explained why Gina walked Anthony into the arms of the Sinaloa cartel – not to protect her boys, but to protect _herself_. The cartel must have realized she was the one who setup Andres and they were cleaning house: Vinnie, Anthony, and Gina would have been next, if she didn't strike some sort of deal.

Veronica stared at the '68 Dodge Charger in the photo behind Andres and Gina and thought about the blue car that tried to run over her and Max outside of Snooze. _'I printed some stills to show Eli… his best guess was a Mercury Cougar, late sixties, early seventies.' _The classic cars didn't belong to Andres, they were Gina's. She put the photo down and frowned. Looking across the desk at Gil, she asked: "What happened to the drugs?"

Before killing him, Anthony and Vinnie had tortured Andres for the location of the coke warehouses. In all the articles about the trial, there was no mention of any drugs being recovered and Veronica assumed the cartel had gotten to them first. _But maybe not_? _What if Gina got her hands on it?_ Kilos of pure cocaine with a street value of around thirty grand apiece and this was _before_ they were mixed with a cutting agent to increase profit.

Gil tipped an imaginary hat to her. "According to Elena's initial police statement, Andres gave up the location of two warehouses before he" —a deep frown— "succumbed to his injuries. Both of which were empty by the time the police staged a raid- they assumed the cartel beat them to the punch."

_Just like I did_. "But they didn't."

"Not at first, but we think Gina gave them the drugs at the same time she turned over Anthony – to save herself. You don't want to double-cross the Sinaloa cartel and she was in over her head."

_She's still in over her head_. Turning over Anthony was enough for the cartel to let Gina live, but if she'd given them the missing drugs, she would have revealed her hand. Possessing the coke would be the same as admitting she was the one who took it in the first place and Veronica was _positive_ Gina had it. She was playing both ends against the middle, letting the FBI think the cartel had the coke and convincing the cartel it was seized by the police. Because if the Sinaloa cartel knew Gina had the drugs, they'd kill her _and_ her children as examples – _don't turn on us, or else_.

It was a dangerous game. Gina probably thought that hiding out under an assumed name and only dealing to rich, 09er trophy wives offered her a modicum of safety. She didn't expect the Sinaloa cartel to be rubbing elbows at the country club with the likes of the Bettencourts and the Manns. Veronica smirked. Obviously, Gina didn't really know the wealthy denizens of Neptune. Veronica wouldn't be surprised to find high-ranking cartel members on the Christmas card lists of every resident in the 09er zip code.

She stood. "Thanks for all your help, Gil."

"What are you going to do now?" The hard set of his mouth, hunched shoulders, and the deep furrowed brow said he was worried.

"I'm going to talk to my client and see if I can get Gina's alias and then I'm going to call you."

His shoulders relaxed. "She's a very dangerous woman, Veronica; be careful."

_Dangerous _and_ desperate_. "I will."

Veronica had no intention of trying to confront Gina Calabrese on her own. It was enough to know what happened and who was responsible for the car accident. Now she would protect her client's identity, get Gina's whereabouts, and let the FBI handle the _justice_ and _vengeance_ parts.

Leaving the FBI was easier than entering and she was back at the car and on her way to Oliver Bettencourt's house in Neptune in less than ten minutes. Not only was Gina dangerous and desperate, she was cold and calculating. She'd set up her lover to be murdered in order to steal a part of the Sinaloa cartel's drug business. Veronica wondered if she'd come up with her plan _before_ she'd started sleeping with Andres or after. Wealth and power were strong motivators for all kinds of evil. Veronica drove past the Welcome to Neptune sign. _And here I am in the capital city of both_.

Her route took her past the former site of the Echolls' family manse. Now it was just an empty lot filled with trees and wildflowers. All the buildings had been razed after the fire, the tennis court dug up and the pool filled in. Logan still owned the land. He'd told her it was because property values in the neighborhood kept going up and it was a sound investment, but Veronica had different ideas on his reason. _Scars aren't always on the outside_. She turned away and pushed down on the accelerator, taking the turn a little faster than she should have.

The Bettencourt residence was on the right side of showy. Unlike the house she'd just been thinking about, this one said 'taste' and 'class' without veering toward ostentatious and tacky. The wrought iron front gates were open —more for aesthetics than security— and she wound her way up the circular drive to the classic brick Georgian mansion. Its white trim with black shutters, two chimneys and white cupola were all too elegant for Veronica to ever imagine the coked-up Vanessa living here. _Probably the house from his first or second marriage_.

These were the kinds of neighborhoods where the BMW fit right in. She parked it behind the green Jag already in the drive and crossed the pavers to the front door. She'd only met Oliver Bettencourt the one time —the day he'd come to her office to hire Mars Investigations— and he cut an impressive figure. Several years older than the trophy wife, his black hair was starting to turn to silver and he wore the lines on his face with grace. He'd been affable and charming, but it came across as more of an affect so Veronica was surprised when he answered the door himself.

He quickly masked his own surprise and opened the door wider. "Veronica, please come in; I wasn't expecting you. Did we have a meeting?"

"No, no meeting. I wanted to talk to you about Van—"

Bettencourt held up a hand to silence her. "Ollie is here. It's one of my days."

As part of their temporary custody agreement, Oliver had his son two days during the week and every other weekend. "It shouldn't take long; I only have a few questions."

He nodded. "Just let me make sure he's still in the kitchen with Theresa —his nanny— and we can talk in the living room." Oliver gestured to a pocket door leading from the foyer indicating that she should go wait for him. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"No thanks." Veronica waited for him to disappear into the back of the house before sliding open the door to the living room. A beautiful white marble fireplace with carved pillars and a raised hearth dominated the far wall. Two matching Hepplewhite shield-back chairs covered in subtle sage green were positioned in front of the fireplace. She chose the one on the right and settled in to wait, her thoughts on Theresa the nanny.

_Oliver has his son for eleven days a month in total and he hired a nanny?_ When she was childless, it was easier to judge parents and their choices, but now she understood that parenting was _hard_ and the constant criticism from others only made the job tougher. _I have enough self-doubt about my parenting skills without comments from the peanut gallery_. No, she wasn't judging Oliver's choice, but it made her curious. Did Theresa only work for him on those eleven days? Or was she Ollie's full-time nanny? And if so, Veronica needed to talk to her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting" —Bettencourt slid the pocket door closed and took the matching counterpart to the Hepplewhite— "Ollie has this new thing about bread crusts, as in he loathes them."

Veronica grinned. _Been there, still doing that_. "It's fine. You mentioned his nanny, Theresa- does she work just for you or is she with Ollie when he's with Vanessa?"

"I'm sorry, but I thought Mars Investigations wasn't working on my case any longer?"

"Now _I'm_ sorry; that was a clerical mistake. We haven't closed your case. In fact, I'm pretty sure we're close to getting the information you need."

"So it's true, then? Vanessa is using drugs?"

Veronica nodded. She didn't have any hard evidence, but if Logan was positive that was good enough for her. She took the photo from her bag and handed it to him. "Do you know the woman Vanessa is having lunch with?"

"I don't really know all of Vanessa's friends." Oliver removed a pair of glasses from his shirt's front pocket, donned the thick black frames, and studied the picture. "She looks familiar?" Another glance at the photo and then he shook his head. "It might be Vanessa's friend Lina, but I'm not sure." He handed it back to Veronica.

"Your nanny, does she work for Vanessa, too?"

His lips pursed. "She used to, but then Vanessa decided she couldn't be trusted. Terry is the one who first suspected the drug use and came to me."

"Can I show her the photo?"

"Yes, but not in front of Ollie." He stood. "I'll send her in and you can explain to her who you are." At the doorway he paused. "What kind of evidence will you have?"

It took a second for her to process his question. Veronica had been so focused on finding Gina's alias and turning her over to the FBI, she hadn't really considered Oliver's situation. "Video," she answered with her fingers crossed.

He started to smile and then his lips compressed and his head bowed, the inner conflict playing out across his face. This really couldn't be counted as a victory. He might win custody of his son, but Vanessa was still Ollie's mother and she was an addict. Veronica felt bad for him and for Ollie; she knew what it was like to grow up with a parent who cared more about their habit than their child.

Theresa was not the young, hot, 09er nanny Veronica was expecting. In her mid-to-late forties with dishwater blonde hair going to gray and a thick, stocky frame she seemed formidable. Veronica gave a fast explanation for her presence and then handed Theresa the lunch photo. It took her no time at all to say: "That's Angelina Marche."

"Do you have any idea where she lives?"

"No, I'm sorry" —she started shaking her head and then stopped— "But I do know it's not far from the children's park, the one near the Polo club? She would walk there with her two boys to meet Miss Vanessa."

Veronica nodded. She knew the park. When she'd brought Wyatt to work with her during Logan's deployment, they'd eat lunch in the park and feed the ducks in the small pond. "Thanks for your help." Standing, she took the photo from Theresa and put it back in her messenger bag. "Please tell Mr. Bettencourt I'll call him by the end of the week."

Theresa stepped back to allow Veronica to pass, but stood waiting in the foyer for her to leave. "Thanks again for your help," Veronica said as she reached the front door.

"Ollie loves his mother." The nanny's words made her turn around. Theresa looked as if she had more to say, but was reluctant. Veronica gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm… did I do the right thing? Telling Mr. Bettencourt about the drugs?"

Instead of giving reassurance, Veronica asked: "Did you ever see her using?" _A witness to testify would definitely help in the custody hearing_. But Theresa shook her head.

"I never saw any drugs either. It was just the change in her moods. She was getting irritable with Ollie for no reason and she was… _different_." The formidable woman suddenly looked indecisive and worried.

"You did the right thing," Veronica said with a firm voice.

Relief loosened her shoulders and smoothed the frown lines from her face and she nodded. "Thank you."

Veronica was glad the nanny felt better, but she didn't. She watched Theresa walk away and then let herself out of the house and returned to the car. She'd come here focused on Gina, but Oliver Bettencourt needed her help too. It was time for a little multi-tasking.

The drive to the trophy wife's house took her through the entire 90909 zip code. It was like Vanessa purposely chose a house as far away from her ex as possible- without leaving the wealthy enclave, _natch_.

Veronica rolled her eyes and made the right onto Oceanfront. It was a narrow street. As with most of the beach homes in the area, they weren't that impressive from the road – saving the expensive architecture and upgraded features for the front of the house that faced the ocean. Veronica counted two carports, a driveway, and three walled courtyards with wood access gates as she drove past the trophy wife's house and down the block.

Conducting surveillance in this neighborhood was always difficult. The private security guards patrolled the area with as much zeal as the Secret Service during a presidential speech only less friendly and with more of an attitude. Fortunately, the last house on Vanessa's block was set back from the road to allow for some parking. Veronica pulled into the spot on the end. It wasn't the most ideal location —limited sightlines and too narrow for a fast u-turn— but it was her only option.

Climbing from the car, she let some air out of the rear tire. Just enough for it to look flat so the guards would leave her alone —a pretty blonde waiting for a tow truck— but more than enough air for the run-flat tire to get her to Gina's house. Veronica settled into the driver's seat and put up the convertible top. She was later than she'd intended. Her conversation with Agent Townsend and the stop at Oliver Bettencourt's both taking longer than planned, but if the drug runner was keeping to his schedule, there was still plenty of time before his arrival.

Slinking lower in the seat, she took out her laptop, and cued up the cameras inside Vanessa's house. Mac had tethered Veronica's laptop to her cell so she would always have a mobile hotspot, which came in handy for the multi-tasking. The pinhole cameras had two settings: motion-activated or continuous recording. To save the battery power, she'd set them all for motion-activated recording, but she could turn them on whenever she wanted and see what was happening in the rooms as a live-feed.

Logan said he'd planted cameras in two of the bathrooms and Vanessa's bedroom and that she'd put the wired plant in her living room. The camera-equipped toys for Ollie —a black race car and Lego block— could be anywhere in the house. Veronica clicked on the first camera.

From the angle of the first bathroom camera and the grid lines across the screen, she guessed that Logan had it hidden in a ceiling air vent. She grinned. _Old habits_. The floor and shower were covered with travertine tiles in a light shade of walnut and the fixtures were Venetian bronze. A strange blue and yellow tile mosaic served as a backsplash for the sink and a matching mosaic took up one wall of the walk-in shower. There were no windows and the room was empty.

Next camera was the master bath and it was a huge room. A double sink with marble counters, two armchairs and a mirrored vanity table were the only parts of the room captured by the camera. At the edge of the screen, Veronica caught a hint of light suggesting that the room continued past the vanity and that its mirrored wall hid the shower, bath, and toilet. She waited a beat to see if Vanessa would appear on screen and then moved to the next camera. An equally opulent master bedroom contained a massive king-sized bed, a sitting area, and a wall of glass that offered an impressive ocean vista, but there was still no Vanessa.

The next camera was completely black. Veronica frowned at the screen and moved to the next one. This one was also dark, but diffused light created shadows of the objects surrounding the camera. Veronica squinted at the screen and turned her laptop until she could identify the fuzzy outline of a dinosaur. _Inside the toy box_. She clicked the next icon. The last camera was also in Ollie's room, possibly tilted on its side because all she could see was oak hardwood, a bunch of colorful blocks, and the feet of a large toy robot.

The dark camera had to be the one inside the base of the plant. Even if it was facing the wall, there should still be light and shadows and _sound_. Veronica opened the window, set it to fullscreen and turned up the volume on her computer. _Nothing_. There wasn't even the hum of ambient noise. She glanced at the house. The plant camera was her best shot at getting a recording for Oliver Bettencourt.

Minimizing that window, she opened the file with the previous recordings for the plant camera. Each time the camera was activated a new file was created with a string of sequential numbers representing the date and time. Veronica scanned through the file list to find the last time the camera was operational - this morning at nine. She clicked the folder and noted the run time —three hours— before pressing play.

A little higher than waist level, the panoramic lens gave her a glimpse into the kitchen, a view of the entire living room, and —if the heavy beige drapes were open— another breathtaking view of the Pacific. Veronica guessed the plant to be on an island counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

She watched the trophy wife carry a tall glass of cranberry juice into the living room and settle herself on a gray suede sectional sofa. Vanessa picked up a remote, pointed it at the flat panel television on the opposite wall, and jabbed a button. _Click, click, click_. Vanessa rapidly cycled through the _'57 Channels and Nothin' On' _and Veronica hit fast forward.

Ollie moved rapidly in and out of the frame. 'Motion-activated' took on an entirely new meaning when there was a child in residence. _Maybe the constant off-and-on from Ollie running through the house drained the battery?_ She watched a fast recap of Nanny Terry arrive to collect Ollie for his day with his father —_getting the nanny to do the child exchange was certainly one way of avoiding the ex_— and more of Vanessa channel surfing.

Veronica hit the scan button advancing the recording to a few minutes before the end and then let it play.

Gina Calabrese's face filled the screen. She was holding the planter at eye level and looking directly into the camera. "What the fuck, Vanessa? Are you recording me?"

"No… of course not… that was a gift," Vanessa stammered.

"A gift?"

The camera tilted on its side and Veronica's stomach tilted with it.

"I met a man at the children's museum, Logan—" Vanessa's explanation was cut off by a loud crunching sound and then both the picture and sound went dead.

Veronica's heart was racing. She snapped the laptop closed and tossed it on the passenger seat. Twisting the key in the ignition, she started the car, and threw it into drive. _Slow down, Veronica_. The warning did nothing to quell her overactive imagination. She started to pull from the spot and a dull, flapping sound reminded her that the rear tire was flat. Braking, she flicked on the hazards and popped the trunk.

The run-flats would allow her to get home, but not with the speed required for the freeway. She got the air compressor from the trunk, plugged it into the lighter, and inflated the tire. _If Gina figured out who Logan was, did she make the connection to me? And, if so, how long would it take her to link me to Mars Investigations and Lisa?_ Veronica didn't know. _If I was Gina what would I do?_ The answer was obvious and painful. _Eliminate the threat_.

Veronica tossed the compressor in the back seat and called the house. The unanswered ringing had her pressing down on the accelerator. She took the tight corner faster than she should have, blowing past the stop sign. The speed limit on Camino was forty miles per hour and she was doing twice that. She jerked the steering wheel to the right, bumping against the curb and shot past the slow moving Accord that was in her way. Hitting the hands-free link to disconnect the call, she tapped another button and shouted, "Call Logan."

The pre-programmed command dialed his cell. His warm, "Hey," stemmed Veronica's panic. "Did you—"

She cut him off. "Where are you?"

"We just got back from Home Depot. I needed more spikes for the— Wyatt, wait for me." The muffled slam of the car door traveled through the phone. "Let me call you back. She's heading for the yard and I left the pool open."

There was no click to signal the end of the call, but there was also no comforting hum of an open line. _Shit_.

The traffic light ahead was turning red. Veronica ran the light and hoped for the beautiful sound of a police siren, only to be disappointed by silence. A lumbering white pickup truck was blocking her path to the freeway. Gunning the engine, she blew her horn and cut him off, veering across the road and merging onto the 5. She jabbed the hands-free button and tried calling Logan again- four rings and voice mail. For the first time she was actually angry they didn't live in Neptune. The additional fifteen minutes to their house was an eternity. She careened around the corner of their block and applied the brakes. A whining engine and screeching tires would give away her arrival as effectively as a marching band. Veronica slowly cruised down the street.

A blue, 1967 Mercury Cougar was parked halfway down the block and across the street from their house. Veronica stared at the empty car with its damaged headlight grill and fender and then back at the house. She pulled the BMW to the curb and put it in park, making her way to the house on foot.

Veronica quietly opened the front door and slipped inside. The welcoming green light was glowing on the keypad for the alarm system: _disarmed, ready_. She pushed the recessed button for the silent panic alarm: a priority one, potentially life-threatening emergency response to their home would take approximately eleven minutes. _Too long_.

The house was still and silent. Veronica kicked off her shoes and inched her way from the foyer into the living room. The French doors to the deck stood open and the screen was pushed back. She crossed the floor, moving closer to the open doorway. Gina's voice traveled across the yard. "Call her- make her come outside."

_Make who - Wyatt_. Veronica turned her head frantically searching for her daughter in the empty living room.

In the yard, Logan said: "Go fuck yourself."

"I'm the one with the gun." Gina Calabrese brandished the weapon as a blunt reminder.

_Gun_. She needed to get her gun. _Why didn't I listen to them and carry my gun?_

Logan held his hands out at his sides and took a step forward. Gina was too far for him to attempt taking away her gun and he was trying to close the distance. She shook her head. "That's far enough- call your daughter."

Backing away from the scene by the pool, Veronica scanned the living room. Their daughter was good at hiding, but not so good at staying hidden. "I wonder where Wyatt is hiding," she whispered as she moved through the room. Forcing her voice to remain level, she played the game. "Is she hiding in this cup?" Veronica waited for the telltale giggle that would give away Wyatt's position, but heard only silence. _Come on baby, answer Mommy_.

She rushed into the kitchen. "Is she hiding in the sink?" No laughter, only the _thud, thud, thud_ of her own heart banging against her breastbone. Veronica stuck her head in the dining room.

A Cohiba Esplendido wooden cigar box sat on the table, but instead of cigars this box contained disposable needles, a spoon, alcohol swabs, cotton balls, and a lighter. A belt, a bottle of water, and a container of lighter fluid were also on the table next to what Veronica could only assume was heroin.

_What's the plan Gina? Use Wyatt as leverage to make Logan shoot up? Overdose?_ She shook her head to clear her thoughts. _Focus on finding Wyatt_.

"I wonder if she's hiding in the… window." Nothing. "Is she under the table?" Still no laughter.

_Shit_. Logan was outside with a gun-toting Gina Calabrese and for all Veronica knew so was Wyatt. They played hide and seek in the yard all the time. Her mind instantly supplied all of Wyatt's favorite hiding spots —behind the shed, under the deck, inside the split trunk of the wide cottonwood tree— and all the new places she could be hiding now that the yard was littered with the unassembled pieces of her swing set.

Veronica raced to the bedroom and the gun safe in the closet. Jabbing her thumb against the lock she waited for the distinctive _click_ as the lock disengaged and the door popped open. She grabbed the P30.

"Daddy!" The sound of running feet padding down the hardwood of the hall made Veronica's breath catch.

"Wyatt!" Slapping the full magazine into the chamber of the gun, Veronica flicked off the safety, and ran from the room to catch her daughter before she reached the yard. This was part of the game too - Wyatt laughing her way into her father's arms while Mommy gave chase. _No, no, no_. "Stop, sweet pea," she called trying to keep her voice low enough to not be heard by Gina. If the other woman knew they weren't alone and that Veronica was home there was nothing to stop her from shooting Logan.

She skidded into the living room in time to watch the tiny figure of her daughter slip through the French doors and into the backyard. Panic propelled her forward, her hand grasping for the towheaded toddler and closing around air.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you," Logan snarled. The deadly threat snapped Veronica from her blind terror and kept her from rushing headlong through the doors after the baby. Cautiously she approached the threshold, keeping her body angled out of view.

As Logan moved to put himself between the gun and Wyatt, Gina pointed the barrel directly at the baby. "Don't," she warned. Logan's fists clenched and he took a step toward Gina. The gun swung to the center of his chest. "Do you want her to see you die?"

The question stopped Logan's advance, but even from here, Veronica could feel the intensity of his rage. _He's going to make good on his threat and kill her_. Gina felt it too; she backed up a step, putting a little more distance between them.

"We're going to play a little game with Daddy- would you like that?" Gina asked in a singsong voice filled with fake delight.

Wyatt bit the tip of her finger, looked up at Logan and he shook his head. "Go hide again and Daddy will come find you." He made a valiant effort to keep the tension from his voice, but Veronica could hear the fear coloring his words and so could Wyatt. She frowned at him and turned her head toward Gina.

"Come here and I'll show you how to play a _new_ game," Gina coaxed.

Unsure, Wyatt took a few hesitant steps forward and then changed her mind trying to move back to Logan's side, but it was too late. In one fluid motion, Gina snaked her arm around Wyatt's waist and swept her off her feet. She cycled backward out of Logan's reach and leveled the gun at Wyatt's head freezing Logan in place.

"The headline was going to be man accidentally overdoses, but this works too - distraught father commits suicide." She held Wyatt out over the pool and her plan was clear.

_A few seconds_. That's all the time they had. The baby could only hold her breath for seconds. Veronica planted her feet in a shooting stance and raised the weapon as Gina dropped Wyatt into the deep end of the pool. "Go!" Veronica shouted.

Even without the command, Logan was already moving, his body arcing into the water. Gina turned her head in the direction of the house and Veronica squeezed the trigger aiming for center mass just like Logan taught her. Gina staggered back and Veronica's finger tightened on the trigger again and again until the other woman was down.

The sound of Wyatt crying was at once painful and the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. Putting the gun down on the grill table, Veronica flew across the deck to the edge of the swimming pool.

Logan was holding their daughter flush against his body, his hand alongside her face to keep her from seeing the dead woman on the slate-colored pavers. "Give her to me," Veronica demanded.

Not waiting for Logan to comply, Veronica took her from his arms and cradled Wyatt to her chest. "Ssh, it's okay sweet pea." She ran her hand over the tiny body feeling her warm, wet skin. Veronica briefly clutched each foot, smoothed her fingers up the back of Wyatt's bare legs, patted the sodden diaper, and then rubbed her small back all while kissing the crown of her head and murmuring nonsensical words of comfort. _She's okay, she's okay, she's okay_.

Logan's arms were wrapped around both of them. He hugged them closer and Veronica fell against him. One of his hands stroked her hair and the other cupped the back of Wyatt's head.

The baby started to wriggle between them. "Too tight, Mama."

It broke the tension. Veronica loosened her grip, but she refused to let her go. "Sorry, sweet pea; Mommy's just really happy to see you."

Wyatt pulled her arm free from between her parent's bodies and pointed toward the pool. "Do 'gain, Daddy?"

"Not tonight, Bean." Logan squeezed Veronica's shoulder and kissed the baby's head. "We'll go swimming tomorrow."


End file.
